Secret Harmonies
by janemac24
Summary: Storybrooke University fresh(wo)man Regina Mills longs to escape from her older sister's shadow, leave small-town Maine, and open her own restaurant, but when she falls for her classmate Emma Swan, college suddenly becomes more appealing. Emma seems to return her feelings, but there's one thing standing in the way of their happily-ever-after: they're in rival a cappella groups.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Once Upon a Time**_** or the film **_**Pitch Perfect, **_**or any of the characters and events depicted in this story. Nor do I own any of the songs that may be used. I make no money from this story.**

So, this has been floating around on Tumblr for the past few weeks under the working title "SQ Pitch Perfect AU." As you can probably guess from that, it's a Swan Queen fanfic loosely based on the plot of the incomparable movie "Pitch Perfect." (Only with lots of lesbians and no boys except for Henry.)

* * *

><p>"Mom's going to be mad that you stole the Benz," Henry warns Regina as they pull up in front of the ivy-covered Forest Hall, her home on the Storybrooke University campus for the next nine months. That is, her home until she finally convinces her mother that she's meant to be in culinary school instead.<p>

Which, at this rate, means she'll probably be stuck here until graduation. Maybe she'll even be forced to get a Master's.

"I didn't _steal_ the Benz; I borrowed it," she argues, refusing to look at her younger brother. Curse him and his big, guilt-inducing puppy dog eyes. "And she'll be grateful that I'm moving my stuff without bothering her. She's very busy."

"She wrote it on the calendar, though: 'move Regina in.' She'll be sad you didn't wait for her."

"She can move Zelena in tomorrow. That'll be more fun for her anyway. Seniors have better rooms – she can help decorate."

"You don't have to push her away, you know," Henry says sadly, his serious gaze betraying a wisdom beyond his years. "You've been doing it ever since Dad left, and it just makes both of you sadder."

Regina stares at her lap for a moment before abruptly clearing her throat and exiting the car, giving the door a hard slam behind her. "I didn't invite you here to make judgmental comments."

"Then why did you invite me?" Henry wonders aloud. "I'm not great at carrying things."

Regina grunts and tucks a lock of her newly short hair (Cora had nearly fainted when she'd seen it, although that was nothing compared to her reaction to the nose ring.) behind her ear. "I invited you," she says with an angry huff as she pops the trunk, "because you are less annoying than Zelena and less overbearing than our mother."

"And you stopped talking to all of your friends because..."

"Here!" She thrusts a suitcase into his arms and orders, "This one's small. Make yourself useful."

Henry shrugs and directs her attention to the perky, T-shirt clad girl approaching them. "Hey, I think that person wants to talk to you."

"Great," she mutters. This is exactly why she didn't want to go to college in the first place.

"Hi!" the girl says brightly, holding out a hand that Regina reluctantly shakes. She's small and blonde and looks way too excited to be here. "Are you a frosh? We don't say fresh_men_ here, because it's a women's college," she explains with a high-pitched giggle. "And we don't say fresh_women_ either because we're trying to be gender-inclusive, so anyway..."

"Yes, I'm a frosh," Regina replies quickly, to put an end to the babbling. Her parents both work here; it's not like she doesn't know about SU's newfound commitment to diversity.

Well, actually, only one of her parents works here now.

The blonde girl's looking at her expectantly, and Regina finally realizes she's supposed to introduce herself. "My name is Regina Mills. I'm supposed to be in Forest 206."

Huge eyes grow huger and the girl exclaims, "Oh! You're Dean Mills's daughter? Well, other daughter, I mean –"

Regina sighs. "So, you know my older sister?"

"Who doesn't know Zelena?" The girl's voice is breathy, awestruck. "She's such an amazing singer, and just...wow. You don't really look like her."

"We're half-sisters," Regina says shortly. Products of a young Cora Mills's fondness for love affairs with foreign men: one from Ireland, one from Puerto Rico whom she'd ended up married to for eighteen years. (Then they had adopted Henry from Russia to complete the international trend.) They all have the same smile, but no one ever notices – Henry claims it's because Regina never actually smiles. "And you are..."

"Oh!" Finally remembering what she's there for, the girl sticks her hand out again and says, "I'm Tink. I'm your RA."

"Tink?"

"Yes, well..." Staring at her feet, Tink mutters, "My real name is Isabella, but, well, you know."

"I know what?"

"It's pretty stupid."

"Yeah, Tink's much better," Regina says sarcastically.

Tink either doesn't notice her tone or chooses to ignore it, because she happily replies, "I thought so, too. Do you sing as well? Are you planning to audition for the Sirens?"

Regina groans. Everyone expects her to join the Storybrooke Sirens, the award-winning a cappella group fronted for the last three years by none other than her older sister. She'd rather get all her teeth pulled out with no anesthesia – spending hours a day rehearsing with Zelena sounds like a circle of hell that Dante himself couldn't have imagined.

"She sings," Henry informs the RA, "but she doesn't want to join the Sirens."

"Oh," says Tink, and then, "_oh!"_ Her eyes suddenly light up so bright that Regina feels a need to look away. "You could join our group, then. We're the Regalers. I don't know if you'd have heard of us. We're kind of...well, we're not as well known as the Sirens, but we're up-and-coming, and looking for new members!"

"I..."

Yes, she's heard of the Regalers. From Zelena, who refers to them as "The Rejects" and generally has nothing positive to say about them, though all Regina personally knows is that their name is pretty stupid.

_"It's like they gathered all the dregs of SU all into one place – it's kind of sad, actually. Reg, you'd fit right in."_

"Sorry, I've been talking your ear off," a suddenly perceptive Tink apologizes. "Here's your room key – you're on the second floor. Go to the Student Center this afternoon to get your ID card. You'll use that to swipe into all of the buildings; the doors are unlocked today and tomorrow while everyone's moving in, so lock your door if you leave your room – can't trust anyone. If you need anything, my room is on the first floor, but I'll probably be out here all day before heading to the Activities Fair. Make sure you come and check out our booth! The Student Center is up on the hill, but you probably knew that already. See you!" Finally taking a breath after getting all of that out, she waves goodbye and approaches the next student.

"Did you catch any of that?" Regina whispers.

Henry shakes his head, smirking. "Something about not trusting anyone, which you're already pretty good at."

With an exasperated sigh, Regina orders, "Let's go," slamming the trunk so hard it causes the entire car to shake in a way that's probably a little too satisfying. She marches into the building, key in hand, and Henry follows along, muttering to himself. He's quiet, though, (and wiping sweat off his brow) by the time they get to the second floor. "You need to get more exercise," she comments.

"I'm thirteen."

"Thirteen's old enough to exercise."

"My body's tired because I'm having a growth spurt. Dr. Whale said."

He _has_ been sleeping a lot lately – and growing. He's already the same height as Regina, who's apparently destined to be the shortest in the family. She had hoped Henry might join her, since no one knows anything about his birth parents, but it turns out they're also of giant stock.

The sign on the door says "Regina Mills and Rapunzel Lewis." ("What kind of name is Rapunzel?" whispers Henry. "Or do you think it's a nickname like Tink?")

Regina doesn't answer, or open the door.

"You ready?" Henry asks. "Maybe she'll be your new BFF like in all the movies." Then, after careful consideration, he amends, "Or you'll hate her. That one seems more likely."

She takes a deep breath and stares at the door, unwilling to lift an arm to open it. Finally, Henry takes pity on her and does it himself. It's a miniscule room with wooden furniture, about how she'd expected it to look. One side (and the bottom bunk, she notices with disappointment) appears to be already claimed by the girl sitting at one of the desks, meticulously brushing her long, black hair.

Henry gapes at it and nearly drops the suitcase.

"You must be Rapunzel," Regina remarks.

The girl barely looks away from her mirror. "Yes, and you're Regina?" Regina nods, which she supposes Rapunzel sees through the mirror. "I guess we're roommates," she says awkwardly.

"I guess we are," echoes Regina.

Henry interrupts the uncomfortable silence that follows by grunting, "Hey, where can I put this down?"

Regina gestures aimlessly at the floor and says, "So, I guess this desk and closet are mine?"

"Yeah. Sorry I took the bottom bunk without asking," Rapunzel says in a tone that sounds like it's trying really hard (but failing) to be apologetic. "I'm afraid of heights."

"Of course you are," Regina grumbles under her breath. Aloud, she only commands, "Henry, let's go to the car and get my sheets."

On the way out, he whispers worriedly, "You can't stay there. You're going to hate it."

"Finally, someone's figured it out. Maybe tell our mother that the next time you see her."

Just as she's opening the car door, another vehicle pulls into the spot next to them. It's an old style VW Bug, light yellow – about the same color as its driver's hair – and Regina finds herself momentarily distracted as the girl gets out.

She's tall and blonde, but not at all perky. There's a hard, cynical set to her jaw that Regina finds intriguing, even as she offers them a friendly smile. She's wearing a red leather jacket and jeans so tight they might be painted on her legs. And they're _very_ nice legs.

She nods at them and says, "Hey, I'm Emma Swan."

"Hi," Regina says shyly. What the hell is happening to her? Is she batting her eyelashes? That's...no. Just no. A moment of staring at each other and one frustrated sigh from Henry later, she adds, "I'm Regina."

"Cool. So, um...you in this dorm?"

Regina opens her mouth, but no words come out of it. She stares pleadingly – helplessly – at Henry, who rolls his eyes yet again and says, "Yeah, she's in 206."

Emma grins. "Okay, yeah, me too. Well, I mean, not in that room, but, like...this dorm." Lips pressed tightly together – why the hell is her mouth trying to smile? – Regina nods. "Cool," Emma says again, "so I guess I'll be seeing you."

She slings a duffel bag over her shoulder and turns to leave, leaving Regina frantically wringing her hands because she doesn't want this to end. She doesn't want to stop talking to this girl even though she has absolutely no idea what to say to her. Henry's glaring at her like she's making his life incredibly difficult and he'd rather be reading in the corner than dealing with her social inadequacies – she doesn't blame him.

"That's our RA," she suddenly blurts out. "Her name's Tink."

"Tink?" Emma turns around, suppressing a smirk. "That's...different. Cool, I guess."

"Yes, cool," Regina mumbles.

"Right, well, I'll see you around, Regina."

As soon as Emma's back is turned again, Regina sags against the car and wonders if she's developing a fever. "What's wrong with you?" demands Henry.

Regina shakes her head, eyes still fixated on Emma's legs and her hair that swishes back and forth as she walks. "I have no idea," she whispers.

* * *

><p>There's a sharp knock on the door just as Regina is about to start unpacking her last box. She thinks her half of the room looks pretty decent – no thanks to Henry, who's been curled up on the top bunk with a book the whole time and hasn't responded to any of her decorating inquiries – but she's still not particularly enthused at the prospect of spending nine months here.<p>

"Can you get that?" she asks Rapunzel, panting under the weight of the box, but her roommate just gives her a meaningful look and gestures to the hair brush in her hand, so Regina unceremoniously drops everything on the bottom bunk and staggers over to open the door, only to find herself face-to-face with the last person she wanted to see today, complete with the falsely sweet smile that means Regina's in huge trouble.

"Hi, Mom!" Henry calls happily, putting down his book for just a second to give Cora an eager wave.

"Hello, dear," she replies before turning to her daughter and demanding, "I thought you were going to wait until my meeting was finished."

"Oh, I...we never explicitly agreed on that," Regina mumbles, staring at the floor.

"Didn't we? I assumed you'd at least leave a note before taking the car – and your brother, I might add."

"I-"

"Well, anyway, here we are," Cora says with a resigned sigh. "I see you haven't made your bed yet, so I'll help you with that as soon as I've met your roommate."

"Mother –"

"Hello, you must be Rapunzel. I'm Cora Mills. I'm the Dean of Students here, so you'll probably be seeing a lot of me. I'm the one you'll need to talk to if you end up having any issues with your roommate," she chuckles, giving Regina a meaningful look.

Rapunzel looks terrified. Regina wonders if it's possible to die of embarrassment.

"I know she looks a little scary, but this whole 'goth' look is just a phase she's going through. She's really perfectly –"

"Mother!" Regina finally exclaims. "I can introduce myself without your help!"

Cora rolls her eyes. "Forgive me for trying to help the poor girl feel more comfortable around you. Really, dear, did you bring any clothes that aren't black?"

"I donated them to Goodwill."

"How charitable of you."

"And I'm not a _goth_," she mutters uncomfortably. "I've just decided black is my color."

"Well, make a different decision next time. Would you like my help making your bed?"

Regina shrugs. "I know how to make a bed."

"Well, then perhaps you'd like to get lunch together? We could go to that new Italian place down in the center of town. I know their lasagna isn't as good as yours, but the garlic bread is to die for."

"Yeah, let's go there!" His reading entirely forgotten, Henry practically catapults off the bed and grabs Regina' s hand. "Please! I'm really hungry."

"I thought you'd want me to go to the dining hall for my first day," Regina says suspiciously. "It's not, like, your last supper with me."

"No, but I thought it might be nice for us to have some mother-daughter bonding time. This is a big day for you, after all –"

"Hey! What about me?" demands Henry.

"Henry can come. And maybe Rapunzel wants to eat with us, too. I mean, she shouldn't have to suffer through the dining hall just because her mom's not the Dean, right?"

Cora almost looks wounded, but she quickly hides it with a polite smile. "Yes, of course. Rapunzel, dear, would you like to come out to lunch?"

Rapunzel grimaces, but she seems to realize that passing up on free food from the Dean of Students wouldn't be the smartest move. "Okay," she says, standing up slowly as she tosses what looks like a waterfall of hair behind her. It falls past her knees.

"Wow, that's long!" Regina comments before she can stop herself.

"You used to have long hair," Cora reminds her, looking nostalgic. "It was beautiful. Not nearly as long as Rapunzel's though."

"I hated haircuts when I was a kid," the other girl explains sheepishly. "Now it's kind of my trademark, but I'm worried it's going to be too high maintenance for college."

"I'm sure it will be beautiful whatever length you decide to make it," says Cora, reaching out to touch the ends of Regina' s new bob before her daughter shrugs away. "Shall we eat? I can call Zelena, too – make it a family affair."

"Rapunzel doesn't need to meet the Wicked Witch on her first day here," Regina grumbles.

"She also doesn't need to hear you calling your sister juvenile nicknames!" Cora whispers. "You're making a terrible first impression." Regina does her best to look apologetic, and Cora sighs. "May I have my keys?"

Cora and Henry both try valiantly to make conversation at the restaurant, but it soon becomes apparent that Regina happened to be paired with the one roommate more socially awkward than her. She can see her mother growing more and more irritated as the meal goes on, and she's half-afraid she's going to end up having her room switched by the end of the night so she can live with someone more extroverted.

And that's the last thing she wants.

"So, Rapunzel, where are you from?" she asks loudly.

"Chicago."

"I went there once. It seemed like a nice place."

"It's alright," Rapunzel murmurs. "Lots of skyscrapers, though."

"Right. I guess that wouldn't work well with the whole fear-of-heights thing, would it?"

"It's not great. And my parents are architects – they _make_ skyscrapers."

"That sucks," agrees Regina. "You'll like it here, then. I think the tallest building in Storybrooke has, like...five floors?"

Rapunzel actually smiles. "That sounds perfect. So," she says, taking a bite of her lasagna (which is nowhere near as good as Regina's – really, the dish is nothing without red pepper flakes), "you must have grown up around here, then? Since your mom works here?"

Regina nods and swallows. "Right here on this campus. Well, we moved around a little, but mostly just here for the last ten years."

"What does your dad do?" Rapunzel asks.

"Um, he was a Spanish Literature professor," Regina replies as a tense, uncomfortable silence descends over the table, mostly coming from her mother.

Rapunzel, as though she realizes she's said something wrong, suddenly starts apologizing. "I'm sorry, he's not...I mean, I didn't mean –"

Henry's the one who finds his voice first. "No, don't worry he's not dead! And he's actually still a professor – and a writer, too, just...not here."

"Yes, he's teaching at the National University of Colombia for two years," Cora says smoothly. "It's an incredible opportunity for him. Did you know that Gabriel Garcia Marquez studied there?"

"And dropped out," Regina grumbles. "Proof that higher education isn't essential to success."

"Well, when you have plans to write your generation's _Cien Años de Soledad_, you can talk to me about dropping out of college."

"I don't want to be a writer. I could open a restaurant – like this one, but better. And I'd let you eat there for free."

Regina's not sure if she's ever seen a more sour expression on her mother's face. "And you could get a business degree to help you manage your restaurant better. We're not having this argument now, Regina. We'll finish lunch, and then I want you to go to the Activities Fair and sign up for at least one club."

"Mother!"

"There might even be a cooking club – you never know until you look. But I do _not_ want you sitting in your room alone all year."

This is too much: she's being forced to _socialize_ in addition to going to college?

"How am I supposed to get straight A's in my business courses if I don't stay in my room and study?" she demands.

"One club, Regina."

Rapunzel shoots her a sympathetic glance and Regina briefly feels a spark of envy for the other girl, whose parents are miles away building skyscrapers instead of meddling in her life.

But then she thinks about her own father, miles away experimenting with magical realism in his tiny apartment in Bogota, and she just feels sad for both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

For anyone who wants to know (or listen while reading), the songs Zelena sings in this chapter are "Royals" by Lorde and "If I Could Turn Back Time" by Cher.

* * *

><p>Regina keeps her head down as she storms past the rows upon rows of booths lining the quad, cursing her mother for...well, for everything.<p>

Theatre? Rowing? Writing club?

She doesn't want to do _any_ of these idiotic activities. She should be in culinary school right now, practicing her craft and paying her dues as a line cook so she can open her own restaurant by the time she's twenty-five.

How dare her mother imply that she lacks ambition?

Rapunzel had opted not to join her, hanging out alone in the room instead, and Regina can't help but resent the fact that her roommate gets to be antisocial in peace. She supposes, though, that she could have achieved the same effect by going to a college where her own mother isn't the Dean: in other words, any college except this one.

But then again, she doesn't want to be in college at all.

She scans the handmade signs above each booth for anything resembling a cooking club, but there's nothing. Not that she'd expected there to be.

"Hey!" exclaims a loud voice behind her. Regina turns, startled, and finds herself staring at a tall brunette wearing the shortest shorts she's ever seen on legs that seem to go on for miles.

Well, that is, they would probably seem that way if Regina was looking at them. Which she definitely isn't.

"I'm Ruby Lucas!"

"Regina Mills," she replies, holding out a hand which Ruby opts not to shake, pulling her in for a hug instead.

"Oh! Um...okay."

"Isn't this awesome?" Ruby asks as she pulls away. "We're in college!"

"Totally awesome," mutters Regina, already in search of an escape route.

"What clubs are you joining?"

"Umm...I'm not sure. I haven't decided," she lies. Well, it's not exactly a lie, but... "What about you?"

"Cross-country team," Ruby informs her. "Actually, the coach recruited me, but if I have some spare time, I might try out for a cappella."

"Really? You're into that?"

Ruby shrugs. "I like singing," she says noncommittally, "and I saw the Sirens perform last year when I visited. They were pretty awesome."

Regina scowls as both of their eyes are drawn over to where Zelena is singing "Royals" with her troupe of blonde minions behind her. Her mother, of course, is watching proudly, a bored-looking Henry beside her with his nose still buried in a book. She sees Emma there, too, accompanied by a petite woman with a pixie cut who's wearing a cardigan that Regina's grandmother would probably love.

No, actually, Grandma's always been more into bright colors than boring Easter-egg pastels.

"I don't know if I could join them, though, come to think of it," Ruby mumbles. "Do you have to be blonde? They look like a bunch of creepy Scandinavian supermodels."

Stone-faced, Regina doesn't reply, and Ruby continues, "Except that soloist, though. How do you think a ginger got in?"

"Witchcraft," Regina says under her breath.

Ruby applauds dubiously as the song finishes up, and Regina forces herself to join in.

There's a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, though, as the pixie-haired girl, dragging Emma behind her, rushes up to Zelena.

She can't hear the conversation, but she sees enough to know that the girl is gushing about something and Zelena is blatantly ignoring her. Why should she listen? There's a hot blonde in front of her, and Zelena's eyes are roaming up and down Emma's body with a hunger than makes Regina physically ill.

_"I knew her first!"_ she wants to protest.

Which is stupid, of course. It's so stupid. She's not attracted to Emma. She knew her for all of five minutes. She doesn't even like girls.

(Barring that one night in San Juan over the summer when she'd kissed Daniela, but Daniela is Daniela and Regina had never been so drunk before and it was her first kiss and her last night before flying home and she's _not_ into girls, okay?!)

Anyway, it's not like any of this is surprising. Zelena has a well-documented thing for blondes; that's why her a cappella group is a veritable army of them.

"They're _good_, though," Ruby observes. "I don't think I'd make it in even if my hair was the right color."

"There's another group," Regina mutters absentmindedly, eyes still on Zelena and Emma across the quad. Emma's saying something to the girl in the awful cardigan and they're writing their names on a sign-up sheet and walking away just as Zelena launches into "If I Could Turn Back Time."

She secretly hopes that Emma's a terrible singer whom Zelena will immediately forget after a lackluster audition.

Then she wonders if she's a terrible person.

"Hey, Regina!"

She groans and slowly turns to see her over-exuberant RA waving her down, standing beside an outdoorsy-looking girl holding a clipboard of her own and looking awfully worried about something. Tink beckons her over eagerly and says, "Marian, this is the girl I was telling you about! She's Zelena Mills's sister!"

Clearly, that wasn't the correct introduction. Marian's expression, which had been friendly if a bit guarded, instantly turns to a scowl as she stares down at her hiking boots and says, "That's nice, Tink," in a voice dripping with so much sarcasm that Regina might have been impressed if it wasn't about her.

"My name is Regina," she says awkwardly. "But, um...I guess you've heard of me?"

"Regina's going to audition for the Regalers!" Tink exclaims, completely oblivious to the tension surrounding her.

"I never said that," protests Regina, but her words fall on deaf ears.

"Not your sister's group?" Marian asks, suddenly interested. "That's surprising."

"Not really, if you think about it."

"You know," she observes, "despite having rhyming names, you and Zelena really don't look anything alike."

"Really? I've never heard that before," Regina snaps. This conversation is going to get old, fast. Marian almost looks apologetic, but Regina decides to continue instead of quitting while she's ahead. "Actually, we're identical twins, but I just got out of rehab for my spray-tan addiction. Also, this is a wig."

Marian, apparently, doesn't respond well to sarcasm. "Good!" she fires back with narrowed eyes. "Take it off. The choppy cut doesn't really do you any favors. Take out the nose ring while you're at it, too. It makes you look like a monster."

Regina's about to open her mouth again and remark that maybe a girl wearing Carhartts to school isn't exactly in a position to lecture anyone else about their fashion sense, but instead Tink clears her throat nervously and steps between them, effectively putting an end to the inexplicable fight.

Zelena must have done something to Marian – a cappella conflict, maybe? Or she supposes it could have been a messy break-up; Zelena dated so many girls her freshman year that at least one in ten of her classmates is probably an ex. It's the only explanation, because Regina's fairly certain _she_ hasn't done anything to warrant the senior's animosity.

"Anyway," Tink says nervously, "auditions are –"

"I said I'm not auditioning," Regina protests. "But you might want to talk to Ruby. She's over there."

"Really?" Marian perks up at the sight of a potential recruit not related to her apparent nemesis. "Do you sing?"

Ruby, sauntering over, explains, "A bit, yeah. I'm also pretty decent at howling like a wolf, if you ever need that for background vocals."

Regina smirks at Tink's confused expression, but Marian forges ahead boldly, ignoring the remark.

"Can you match pitch?"

"I can try."

Content that Ruby will keep Tink and Marian busy for quite some time, Regina slinks away, hoping to catch another glimpse of Emma before shutting herself in her room until Thanksgiving.

She makes a last minute decision to put her name on a sign-up sheet to work at the campus café, figuring that she'll at least be _near_ food preparation, and as long as she gets some form of human contact out of it, her mother can't really complain.

This sucks.

* * *

><p>Over the next few days, a cappella (along with Emma Swan) is forced out of Regina's mind as she's suddenly busier than she ever expected she'd be. Zelena always made it sound like college was easy and the Sirens were the only thing taking up her time.<p>

Then again, Zelena actually likes college, and _she_ doesn't have to get straight A's to prove a point.

Regina's classes are...well, she supposes she can't complain too much about them. They're no more boring than expected. She thinks she may actually like Dr. Hopper, her psychology professor. He's relaxed and friendly and his gentle voice always helps her de-stress from Professor Gold's econ class the hour before.

She can't shake the feeling, though, that she doesn't quite belong here. There's nothing that interests her and she mostly wishes she could just sleep all day. Unfortunately, her new campus job doesn't allow for that.

The first day starts with a bang when Regina practically falls off the top bunk, waking Rapunzel by coming within an inch of stepping on her face as her alarm clock flies across the room.

"What time is it?" the other girl asks with an annoyed yawn.

"Six," Regina replies apologetically. "I have to go to work; I'll try to do it a little less violently next time."

Rapunzel grunts and sits up in bed. "Your 'restaurant-adjacent' job?" she asks, smirking. "Does your mom really buy that?"

"She believes what she wants to believe." Regina sighs and gestures at the blankets hanging precariously from her bunk, muttering, "Sorry about...you know."

"It's fine; I should probably start brushing my hair anyway." Rapunzel stretches her arms up sleepily and cracks her neck before sweeping her hair over one shoulder and marching over to her desk, where perhaps the most heavy-duty hairbrush ever made is waiting for her.

"How long is that going to take?" Regina wonders aloud.

"If I braid it, too, then maybe two hours."

Regina shakes her head, speechless, and finishes getting ready in silence. "Good luck," she calls over her shoulder on the way out.

She's early (and breathless) when she arrives at the café, cheeks pink from sprinting in the cool morning air. She watches through the door with a fair amount of trepidation as an elderly woman bustles around the kitchen, wincing at the crash when a stack of lasagnas in industrial-sized pans are yanked from the freezer to defrost.

_This is not a gourmet restaurant_, she reminds herself, as if she needed reminding. By the time she finally convinces her mother to let her go to culinary school, she'll have so many bad habits to unlearn that no restaurant will even have her.

"Lasagna as a lethal weapon – that's a new one," a voice observes from over her shoulder. Regina whirls around to find herself face-to-face with none other than Emma Swan. "Hey," the blonde says with a bleary-eyed grin, "Regina, right? You reporting for kitchen duty, too?"

She's still wearing her leather jacket and her absurdly tight jeans and Regina's heart still flutters uncontrollably in her presence.

"I – um..."

Before Regina can stammer out an answer – and wonder what exactly it is about this girl that reduces her to an awkward, babbling mess – the woman in the kitchen seems to sense their presence, her ears perking as she turns around.

"Mills and Swan?" she barks. "You're late. Not a great first impression."

Regina opens her mouth to reply, but no sound comes out and she's left to stand there gaping like a fish. Thankfully, Emma jumps in to save both of them. "Sorry, we weren't sure whether we were allowed to go inside," she says smoothly. "Like, sanitary precautions or something."

The woman harrumphs and glares at them, ordering, "Get some aprons from over there and wash your hands."

Once the tasks are complete, she explains, "My name's Eugenia Lucas, as you can see on my nametag, but most folks call me Granny. You'll show up here at six-thirty each day and make sure all of the dishes and mugs are set out for the breakfast rush. Then, you'll be clearing the tables as people leave and making sure the dishes get washed – we need to have fast turnover so kids can get their coffee in time for class. You'll see we have three sinks – wash, rinse, and sanitize. Pretty self-explanatory, but I'll give you a quick demo. The most important rule is to make sure everything is done thoroughly, especially the forks and spoons."

The woman finally pauses to take a breath, and Regina finds her voice again. "What about cooking?"

"Cooking?"

Granny looks so confused that Regina's now second-guessing herself. "I mean, what will we do to assist with food preparation?" she asks slowly, glancing furtively at Emma, who seems rather nonchalant about the whole thing.

Granny laughs. "Food preparation? Nothing – freshmen are only on dish duty. Maybe in a few weeks you can start pouring the coffee. Follow me to the sink."

"Fresh_wo_men," Emma coughs under her breath. "No, excuse me, I meant _frosh._" Regina wants to laugh but feels like she might cry instead.

"This is the worst," she bursts out later, as they're setting out mugs after Granny's incredibly long-winded explanation of how to wash dishes properly. "I signed up for this job because I wanted to be able to cook."

"Not me," Emma says breezily, "washing dishes is pretty much my number one hobby." Regina doesn't laugh and she finally explains, "That was a joke."

"Oh."

After a few more moments of silence, Regina asks, "Were you hoping to cook, too?"

Emma shrugs and explains, "I wasn't really hoping for anything. I had a get a campus job to pay for loans, and everything at the library was already taken."

"Oh," Regina says again, suddenly feeling awful.

"I'm not really that great at cooking," Emma continues. "I can make, like, really easy stuff, like pasta and nachos, but nothing fancy or healthy. How about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you like cooking?"

"I do," Regina says eagerly. "My father taught me, before – I mean, I used to do it a lot, when I was younger. Not so much now, since the kitchen in our dorm is awful. My dad's from Puerto Rico, so that's what he taught me – _cocina criolla_, with a lot of beans and spices and stuff – but I also enjoy baking – like, pies and cakes and that kind of thing. I also make much better lasagna than the dining hall here – I mean, that's not particularly difficult," she adds, before realizing that she's rambling and coming to an abrupt stop.

Emma smiles encouragingly. "That sounds awesome. Maybe you can teach me sometime."

Regina makes the most embarrassing sound she's ever heard come out of her mouth – kind of an excited squeak like a dog toy that someone's just stepped on – and nods vigorously, unable to coherently form words. She wonders if Emma can hear her heart pounding over the buzz of the coffee machines.

She wonders if she'd even be able to teach Emma to cook if her body has this sort of reaction whenever they're in each other's presence.

What the hell is wrong with her, anyway? Maybe she can stay after Psych one day and ask Dr. Hopper about it.

"So, you sing?" she suddenly blurts.

"I...what?"

Emma looks confused – very confused. Regina's heart sinks as she realizes that her abrupt topic change is somewhat outside of typical social norms and probably made things worse, not better.

"I mean, sure, I did choir for a bit in one of my high schools, but..."

"Oh," Regina says embarrassedly, "I, um...I saw you talking to Zelena at the Activities Fair, and I just thought...you know what? Never mind."

"Are you stalking me?" Emma asks. She's joking, but Regina's face still burns with shame.

"I just – well, Zelena's my sister, so I notice what she's doing," she explains lamely. It's a lie, but she hopes Emma won't notice.

No, who is she kidding? She's a terrible liar.

"Your sister?" Emma seems surprised, and Regina waits for the inevitable comment about their lack of resemblance, but Emma just snorts and says, "She comes on a little strong, doesn't she?"

"Oh. Um...I wouldn't know."

"My roommate, Mary Margaret, is obsessed with the Sirens," Emma explains, "so, like, she was really excited to talk to them. I just tagged along for moral support, but I think Zelena might have gotten the wrong idea."

"She likes blondes," Regina grumbles, "but you must be used to that."

"Used to what? People liking blondes?"

"You know, people finding you attractive," she says, suddenly uncomfortable. Did someone leave an oven on? Because this kitchen is about a thousand degrees. "Because you're very...well, you know."

Emma smirks. "Are you trying to tell me that you and Zelena have something in common?"

"I...no!" Regina exclaims. "We have nothing in common. I mean, we sort of – no." Sighing in frustration, Regina forces herself to stop babbling and count to ten.

At the end of it, she coolly says, "Let's get back to work, Miss Swan."

_Miss Swan?_

What is she thinking? Who says that?

Well, there's no taking it back now. Regina sighs again and turns to face the sink, scrubbing furiously at a chipped mug and leaving Emma to stare in confusion at the back of her head.


	3. Chapter 3

The song featured in the second half of this chapter is "Yellow Brick Road" by Kris Delmhorst, if you would like to listen to what the characters are singing.

* * *

><p>The next week passes quickly, if unpleasantly. Regina's body continues to react in strange ways in Emma Swan's presence, generally by becoming uncomfortably hot and shaky, and she compensates for it by treating the other girl with as much coldness as she can muster.<p>

It's awful. It's making both of them miserable.

"Why do you suddenly hate me?" Emma asks one day. "What did I do?"

"I don't hate you," Regina whispers and then runs to the bathroom.

She doesn't know what this feeling is. Hate would be easier; hate wouldn't keep putting these strange images in her head at inopportune times – images she's seen on Zelena's computer screen but never thought could be real (or involve people she actually knows).

She's in the middle of a particularly pleasant dream featuring herself and Emma on an empty, white-sanded beach wearing very little on their bodies, the sun beating down on their skin as the waves lap against their toes, when she's rudely awakened by a nudge on her shoulder.

"Your econ class is in ten minutes," a freshly-coiffed Rapunzel says worriedly. "Did you sleep through your alarm?"

Regina groans and rolls over onto her stomach. It's her day off at the café, so her morning starts with Professor Gold's econ class, which will likely put her in a bad mood for the remainder of the day. It's not enough that he's creepy and the subject matter is horribly dry; for some reason, he feels a need to pick on her the entire class, taking every opportunity to point out that her mother and sister are (or will be) brilliant economists while she's one of the weakest students he's ever taught.

"I'm in the process of sleeping through my alarm," she mumbles into her pillow.

"You were kind of moaning in your sleep," Rapunzel observes. "Do you think you're getting sick? I could bring you some tea after my painting session."

"No!" Regina exclaims quickly – too quickly. She hopes the pillow hides her blush, but she has a feeling the shameful burning sensation creeping all the way down the back of her neck is visible even in the low light. For all the social skills she lacks, Rapunzel is excessively nice, and that makes it incredibly difficult for Regina to be rude even though talking about her feelings is the last thing she wants to do right now. "I – I'll be fine. I'm just...just sleepy. Really tired. I think I'm just going to skip Econ today."

Rapunzel just shrugs and leaves the room without further comment, and Regina lets out a huge sigh of relief as she turns back over and closes her eyes, giving her consciousness over to dreams of Emma in a bikini, skin sticky with sweat as she wraps her arms around Regina's waist, pulling their bodies together and –

"Regina...Regina!"

Someone's shaking her out of her fantasy, and even though she's only half-conscious, she's one hundred percent certain it's her mother. Heart sinking, she desperately wills her mind back to the present, bracing for the storm that is an enraged Cora Mills.

However, her mother's voice almost sounds more concerned than angry when she remarks, "I wasn't aware that Economics 101 had moved to Forest Hall."

"Why are you spying on me?" Regina grouses, pressing her pillow over her face in frustration.

"Why are you skipping your classes?" Cora counters and pulls the pillow away.

Oh, so her mother wants to play _this_ game. Regina arranges her features into their sassiest expression and snaps, "I decided the marginal benefit of learning Econ was vastly outweighed by the marginal cost to my sanity." When Cora appears unmoved, though, Regina crumbles. "Mama, it's just...I can't go to Gold's class! He's...I can't do it. I'll go to Psych, but just...I'll go to the next one. Just please, not today."

"You could have switched out of Gold's class during the add/drop period," Cora says unhelpfully. "You could probably still get out of it with a good enough reason – talk to Dean Blue and get another class you like better. You're going to have to be a bit more eloquent than 'I can't,' though. As you recall from the time you rode your bike over her garden, she's a bit of a hardass."

At any other time, her mother calling Dean Blue a "hardass" – actually, her mother using the word "hardass" at all – would have at least drawn a smirk. Now, it barely even registers. "I don't want to find another class," Regina whines, fully aware that she sounds younger than Henry. The burning tears struggling to leak out of her eyes aren't helping, either. "I don't want to go to college."

Cora sighs heavily. "Regina –"

"Why!?" she practically shouts. One tear trickles down her cheek and her lips are starting to wobble, but she pushes forward. "_You're_ the one who always said that college isn't for everyone. Why won't you accept that it's not for me?"

"Because you need to learn –"

"I can learn everything I need to know about the restaurant industry at a half-decent culinary institute! And _maybe_ I can learn more here, but why is that worth spending four years completely miserable?"

"You're miserable because you're choosing to be," Cora argues. "Darling, I know that nothing that's happening right now is...ideal. Especially –" (she takes a deep breath here) "- especially everything with your father. I know you miss him – I do, too. But you can't just shut down and stop living; that's not what he would want for you. And I know Bogota is far, but you'll see him soon enough."

Regina shoots her mother a glare that would probably be more effective without the tears streaming down her cheeks. "If you miss him so much, then why did you let him go?" she demands.

"He was feeling unfulfilled, and I supported his attempt to follow his dreams. I didn't _tell_ him to go all the way to Colombia to do it!"

"But you didn't tell him to stay."

"No, I didn't," Cora agrees.

"And I don't see what he had to be unfulfilled about," mutters Regina, snatching her pillow out of Cora's hands and using the edge to wipe her tears. "He could write the next great Latin American novel in Storybrooke – where his _family_ is."

Cora nods. "He could. And...I know. But sometimes when you love someone, you...you have to let them tell you what they need to be happy." She stares at Regina for a second and then exhales. "Let's make a deal," she says suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"You – this college thing. I want you to give it a chance."

Regina's eyes narrow, and she grumbles, "That's not a deal; that's me doing what you want."

"For one year. And at the end of this year, if you're still miserable, you can drop out of college."

"Really?" Regina sits up in bed, unsure if she actually just heard what she thinks she did. She wishes she'd thought to record this conversation.

"Really," Cora confirms. "I'll even help you pay for culinary school, although I'm sure if they do merit scholarships, you'll get one."

Regina stares. There's a part of her that wants to jump out of bed and throw her arms around her mother, weeping with joy, but she still doesn't quite believe this is happening.

"What's the catch?" she finally asks.

"You have to actually _try_. No more cutting classes – even Professor Gold's. And you need a hobby besides working in the café with Granny and those...oddballs."

"Oddballs, Mother? Really?"

"There are no fewer than three white girls with dreadlocks working there. It reeks of pot behind the counter. Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

She hasn't – she's really only noticed one person. "Okay, I won't."

"I'm glad you're focusing on your work, then, but I still want you to find another activity, preferably one with greater potential for human interaction, if you know what I mean."

"And if I still hate college?"

"In June, if you're getting good grades in your classes and at least trying to make friends, but you still don't want to be here, then yes, you can go to culinary school with my full support. I'm sure your father will agree as long as you promise to feed him for free when you eventually open your restaurant."

Regina thinks for a moment and then nods. "Okay," she says quietly, and Cora reaches up to the top bunk to squeeze her hand.

"Excellent. Now dry your tears, eat some breakfast, and get to your psychology class. Trying starts now." With that pronouncement, Cora turns on her heel and strides out the door, leaving Regina to wonder if her mother is losing her mind.

Then she hears, "Oh, and Regina? You might consider asking your coworkers to share with you the next time they light up – it might improve your mood!"

"And how would you know that?" she yells out the door.

"I was a Liberal Arts student once, too!"

Yes, she's completely lost it.

But, Regina thinks as she pulls on a pair of pants with newfound enthusiasm, maybe that's not such a bad thing.

* * *

><p>"Henry, I just heard one of the showers turn off. I have to go," Regina says urgently, adjusting the towel that's starting to slip down her abdomen. "You can tell me the rest tomorrow night, okay?"<p>

She can hear him grumbling to himself on the other end and she's half-worried he'll pitch a fit, but then Cora hollers something that sounds vaguely like "homework" and "no more video games" in the background and he instantly yelps, "Yeah, fine – talk to you tomorrow. Love you!"

"I love you, too," Regina replies, shaking her head as she hangs up.

"How's Scheherazade?" asks Rapunzel, nose-deep in her calculus homework. Regina rolls her eyes.

"We still have 997 nights to go," she answers with a tired laugh. She loves her brother, honestly; on the list of her favorite people in the world, he's number one, no questions asked. But sometimes he can get so absorbed in his stories he forgets about reality (and often the passage of time).

He's quite a bit like their father in that way, actually. If she didn't know they weren't biologically related...

"Go get your shower," Rapunzel urges, and Regina doesn't need to be told twice.

She's humming to herself as she turns on the water, wishing that SU hadn't decided the previous year to install environmentally friendly "low-flow" faucets on all of their showers so she could actually get the stress relief she craves. The slow trickle of lukewarm water down her back just doesn't have the same calming effect as the torrent she had at home.

_It would have been better to just live at home_, she thinks for the thousandth time – not that Cora would have let her. But she would have had her comfortable bed and her hot shower, and her mother will always be breathing down her neck no matter where she goes.

And Henry, instead of just telling seemingly endless stories over the phone, would actually be there to hug her when she's down.

Like now. This week has been shit. She'd gotten a C on Gold's quiz – how the hell is she supposed to pass Econ if she can't even grasp supply and demand – Hopper, her only decent professor, had canceled class to take his dog to the vet, and she still keeps ruining absolutely everything with Emma, who seems like her last chance to make one of the friends her mother keeps harping about.

She doesn't hear anyone else moving around the bathroom, so she takes a chance and sings in a last ditch attempt to relax. She's not her sister – she's not born for the limelight, bursting into song every five seconds, but she does enjoy it and she has a decent enough voice when Zelena's not drowning it out.

_Well I'm off to see the wizard in his castle on the hill__  
><em>_And I never once have known him and I do not know him still_

And not even singing can make her feel better when this shower isn't loud enough to cover her in case someone walks in. Not that she's embarrassed (no one's going to mock her when Zelena's in a different building), but –

God, she really just wants to be alone for once.

_Because his face it is magnificent but you'll never see his hands__  
><em>_And the way he throws his voice around I don't know where he stands_

She hears feet – two sets, by the sound of it – padding along the floor and then the sound of another shower turning on beside hers. She quickly stops and splashes some water on her face, still humming as the soap gradually washes off of her body and down the drain. She decides she might feel marginally cleaner and is almost happy about it until she turns to rinse the shampoo out of her hair and comes face to face with a manically wide-eyed Tink.

"Oh no, it's alright," the RA reassures her. "Don't stop singing. It's beautiful. You _have_ to audition for the Regalers."

"What are you doing?" she hollers, immediately turning off the shower and scrambling to cover her body. Her towel is draped over the curtain rod behind Tink. Damn it.

"That was 'Yellow Brick Road,' right?" Tink says encouragingly. "Kris Delmhorst. I saw her live in Boston last year for my birthday."

"Um, cool?" Regina mutters. Zelena's obsessed with that song – Regina just knows it because her sister monopolizes their stereo almost twenty-four hours a day.

"Sing it again!"

"No!" Regina exclaims, practically doubled over with her arms hugged over her breasts. "Get out!"

"I'm not leaving 'til you sing," says Tink, crossing her own arms in a way that's less modest and more dominating, and Regina imagines herself running sobbing into the office of the Dean of Students and reporting her RA for harassment and whatever the hell else this is.

Then she remembers that the Dean of Students is her mother and is more likely to give her a speech about how we all have lesbian fantasies sometimes (the way she did after Zelena came out and Regina returned from her summer in Puerto Rico with a pen-pal named Daniela she was a little too excited to hear from) and the diversity of female sexuality is something that should be encouraged.

Regina understands the lesbian fantasies thing now, even though she didn't at the time ("I'm not the same as Zelena, Mom! Not everyone is Zelena! I never want to be like her _ever_!"), but this is just creepy.

She wonders if punching the idiot in the face will get her asked to leave the school.

"Come on!" Tink wheedles. "We can do it together, like we'll be doing in a cappella rehearsal. I'll start."

_Well I'm off to see the wizard with his curtain and his crowd__  
><em>_But my hands are not trembling and my head it is not bowed_

Reluctantly, Regina joins in, hoping that the better she plays along, the sooner it will all be over. She's surprised to find that she actually enjoys singing with Tink; unlike Zelena, she listens and doesn't try to take over the song, and their voices actually harmonize together. She's smiling by the time they get to the chorus.

_'Cause I'm not on no yellow brick road__  
><em>_Got a mind and a heart and guts of my own__  
><em>_I'm not looking for a one to set me free__  
><em>_I'm not on no yellow brick road__  
><em>_I'll find my own way home__  
><em>_I'm just looking for someone to walk with me_

When the song is finally finished, Tink continues to stand there, grinning at her, until Regina clears her throat. "Um, washing my hair now?" she says awkwardly.

"Oh, right," Tink mumbles, her face flushing.

Regina points to the towel hanging in between the two shower stalls. "Do, uh...do you need?"

"Nah," the RA replies with another slightly creepy smile. "I'm pretty comfortable with, you know, all of this."

She gestures to her body and Regina purposefully looks away. "As you should be," she says through gritted teeth.

Just then, another head pops into the shower. "What the hell?" Regina exclaims.

"Sorry," a curly-haired girl named Wendy who she thinks she knows from her International Literature class says with a shy smile. "You have a lovely voice. Tink...?"

"Right. Coming."

The two disappear and Regina leans exhaustedly against the wall, wondering if she'll ever have a moment of peace. Then she rinses her hair as fast and silently as possible and wraps the towel protectively around her middle before venturing out into the open.

She almost sprints back behind the curtain when she sees another towel-clad body leaving the bathroom at the same time she is.

"Some concert in there, huh?" Emma remarks, and Regina waits until the other girl is out of the room before pounding her fist against the wall in frustration.


	4. Chapter 4

The songs in this section are "Call Your Girlfriend" by Robyn and "Fairytale" by Sara Bareilles.

* * *

><p>"What the hell took you so long?" Marian hisses as a blushing Tink rushes into the auditorium five minutes late, drawing glares from Zelena and her Barbie-doll lackey Glinda. The two esteemed leaders of the Sirens have been whispering in their corner – cheesy declarations of love, undoubtedly – and generally ignoring Marian's presence.<p>

They were probably kissing, too. She doesn't know. Her eyes were _very_ well averted.

"Wendy," mutters Tink. "Wendy took me so long. Multiple times."

"Oh my god!" Marian exclaims, covering her face with her hands so she won't be tempted to use them to smack Tink. "The frosh you're dating? The one who looks like she's twelve? I don't want to hear about this."

Tink looks appropriately embarrassed, but she still has the audacity to reply, "Well, you asked."

"Are you _trying_ to get a reputation for being a huge creep?"

"Why are you so bitter today?"

"It'll just give Zelena Mills another excuse to mock us," Marian says, answering with a non-answer. Why is everyone she works with so unreliable? First her incompetent boss at the soup kitchen, then her disaster of a geology research partner, and now this – she can't take much more today.

"She doesn't need an excuse to mock us," Tink argues. "In the mean time, I'd like to find love by the time I graduate, something _you_ might think about trying!"

Marian doesn't have time to come up with a retort, because the self-proclaimed dictator of all things a cappella chooses that moment to stand up. "So, now that everyone's here," Zelena says with a disdainful glance at her rivals, "shall we begin?"

There's a faint murmur of agreement from all of the candidates, and Zelena begins roll call with her usual dramatic flair. There's only one person missing, the name that Zelena stumbles over: Regina Mills.

"Is this some kind of April Fools' joke?" she asks, casting a suspicious glare at the Regalers' corner – like Marian and Tink have enough time on their hands to play stupid pranks – before continuing on. "Kathryn Nolan?"

"Here," calls a tall blonde that's probably a shoo-in for the Sirens as long as she doesn't sound like a frog.

"She said she'd come," a dejected Tink sighs.

"God forbid someone doesn't do something they say they're going to do," Marian says under her breath. Tink frowns at her, but she doesn't care. It's just been that kind of day.

"For your audition, you must sing sixteen bars of Robyn's 'Call Your Girlfriend,'" Zelena announces, with unnecessary pomp and circumstance and a wicked grin, like she's remembering their first semester at SU when Marian had declared this her least favorite song and even divulged the highly personal reasons she felt so strongly about it. _She's probably been planning this for years_, Marian thinks angrily. Everyone likes to complain about their first-year roommates like it's some kind of competition, but Marian's pretty sure she wins. Instead of the repayment she deserves for spending practically the entire year sexiled and never once complaining to the dean, she has to deal with this crap every day.

"She might have asked for our input," complains Tink, who has no idea.

Marian shrugs. "As long as no one whips out a cup, I think we'll survive," she says resolutely, determined to show no weakness in front of her nemesis. She's over Robyn, after all. She hopes her cheating scum of an ex is very happy out in Oregon. She's long since de-friended her on Facebook so she doesn't have to look at a constant stream of "artistic" photos of Mt. Hood in all four seasons.

Their first singer takes the stage, a kind of mousy-looking girl in a pink cardigan who seems like she would have been more comfortable at Storybrooke back when it was still a finishing school and not the granola-crunching bastion of moralistic white feminism it's become in recent years.

In spite of that, she has a lovely voice. Tink looks interested – she's scribbling something on her clipboard, anyway – but the girl is gazing longingly at Zelena the entire time and there's absolutely no way Marian is going to waste her time on someone with such poor taste.

"Absolutely not," she tells Tink, drawing a thick, black X next to the girl's name. Mary Margaret Blanchard. Marian briefly wonders if she's the daughter of Eva Blanchard, the college president. Nepotism is pretty big here – it may even be enough to get Mary Margaret into the Sirens even though she's clearly doesn't fit Zelena's specifications.

"Thank you so much," she says earnestly when the song is finished. "Performing live gives me such a thrill." Tink rolls her eyes and scribbles out Mary Margaret's name with a Sharpie, causing Marian to breathe a sigh of relief. Tink has her own absurdities, but even she has limits. It's probably the only reason she and Marian still get along.

"We need someone with more...attitude," she finally proclaims.

"You mean like your beloved Regina?"

"Not necessarily. I mean...I could mean anyone. Like her, maybe!"

Marian glances up at the stage, where there's a girl in a black fishnet dress and too-high heels stumbling on. "Attitude?" she muses. "Either she's drunk at eleven in the morning or she has no idea how to walk in heels – neither one is particularly appealing to me."

"Name, year, and preferred pronouns?" Zelena demands, eyes never leaving her clipboard.

"Hi, I'm Lacey French," she says, and then mumbles a bunch of other stuff under her breath that Marian and Tink don't quite catch. Her singing is pretty good, though. Tink nods in approval and writes a check next to her name.

Next up is Belle French, Lacey's identical twin sister who seems a lot more like the sort of person Marian wants to have around, buttoned up and bookish and well-spoken. She makes it onto their list, too.

"Oh, I've seen this one in my dorm before," Tink whispers as the next singer takes the stage. Her name is apparently Emma Swan, and she's quite talented. But she's a tall, thin blonde, and one look at Zelena's face has Marian quickly crossing out her name. No one who causes Zelena Mills that level of rapture is ever going to join the Regalers.

"Too bad," says Tink.

Marian shrugs. You win some, you lose some. At least this year there are enough people auditioning who Zelena definitely _won't_ want that they'll be able to get a couple of new members. The last few years had seen their numbers dwindling as the Sirens' success had picked up, and most frosh seemed to want the better group or nothing. It's not that she _dislikes_ singing duets with Tink, but it will be nice to have some new faces around.

Mulan Fa, whose rippling muscles are visible under the sleeves of her shirt, does her own rendition of "Call Your Girlfriend," complete with an impromptu rap interlude about internalized misogyny and the dangers of encouraging pointless competition between women. "She's in, I like her," Marian declares. Her voice needs a bit of work, but by appearance alone, she seems like someone who will be willing to put in the effort to succeed at something. She obviously spends a lot of time at the gym, and it's working for her.

The singers that follow are bland and boring in comparison, and Marian barely pays attention until some girl named Ariel decides to show off her "mermaid dancing" skills. "What the hell?" Tink mutters, but she's grinning and she draws a star next to Ariel's name on the list.

Finally, the last singer takes the stage. It's the girl from the Activities Fair with tiny red shorts. Her dancing leaves plenty to be desired, but she does a great job with the song. She'll be good anchor for their alto section.

"And that should be everyone, right?" Zelena asks, checking her clipboard. Her eyes narrow as they pass over her sister's name for a second time, and then she shrugs. "Okay, thank you all for your effort. If you are selected for a group, you'll be contacted directly within the next three days. If not...well, better luck next time."

After barely a minute's consultation, Zelena and Glinda march out of the auditorium without a goodbye, and Marian sinks back into her seat and sighs deeply. "How many?" she asks Tink.

"Not counting the ones the Sirens are going to nab first, I think we might have five? Ruby, Mulan, Belle, Lacey, and Ariel."

"Mermaid-dancing girl?" Wrinkling her nose, Marian kicks off her hiking boots, which are starting to smell, and rests her feet on the chair in front of her. "I don't know."

"She's a little strange," Tink admits, "but we need to perform. If all of those girls accept the invitation, we'll still only have seven. That's not even enough for an octet."

"What about...um...Aurora?" Marian finally suggests after scanning the list of names. She hadn't been too memorable but seemed like she'd be decent enough at background vocals. "And Tamara – she sounded like she had a bit of a lower range. She could help round out our arrangements."

"I wrote maybe for both of them," Tink reports, glancing down her own list, "which I'll now change to yes."

"You don't want Wendy?"

Tink shrugs. "She can be on our back-up list, but she doesn't really have time. And, you know, she's not the greatest singer. It was nice of her to show up, though, wasn't it?"

Marian nods in agreement and squeezes her eyes shut. Nine is a good number. Assuming none of these girls get scooped up by the Sirens, they'll field a decent group. No superstars, obviously, but as long as they can harmonize together, they have a shot at making it to Regionals.

ICCAs are a pipe dream at this point, but she'd give anything to qualify and right the wrong of her sophomore year, the last time the Regalers had made an appearance. Then maybe she'd have positive memories of college instead of just one humiliation after another.

She hears footsteps up by the stage, and Tink suddenly exclaims, "Regina, you made it."

Groaning, Marian lets her eyes flutter open and gives the frosh an irritated glare.

"Sorry I'm late," Regina mumbles, eyes downcast.

"Did you get lost in Hot Topic?" demands Marian. "Auditions are over."

"No, I just...I didn't want to see Zelena."

Well, that's always an acceptable excuse. Perhaps she should have more sympathy for Regina – the poor girl has known Zelena for eighteen years and Marian's only had to deal with her bullshit for three.

"It's fine," she amends, beginning to thaw in spite of herself. "Just start singing, I guess." Regina continues to stand silently, wringing her hands in embarrassment. "Is there a problem?" Marian asks. "We don't have all day."

"Marian!"

"I have to re-label all of my soil samples by one and then I have to go back to the damn soup kitchen and fix whatever John messed up so people can actually eat dinner tonight!" And no one really needed to know all of that, but she feels much better now that it's out.

"Sorry, it's just that I didn't know we had to prepare that song," Regina finally explains, and Marian feels herself warming to the girl even further.

"That's fine," Tink says breezily. "Sing anything you like. We're not scary – it'll be just like the other night in the shower."

"_Excuse me?_"

"Relax, Marian. I'm not _that_ much of a creeper. Regina, whenever you're ready."

Regina looks to Marian for approval (knowing who's in charge: yet another point in the younger Mills's favor) and she forces herself to smile. "Preferably something your sister hates," she confirms under her breath.

That draws a lop-sided grin, and Regina finally takes a deep breath and starts singing.

_Cinderella's on her bedroom floor__  
><em>_She's got a __crush on the guy at the liquor store__  
><em>_Cause Mr. Charming don't come home anymore__  
><em>_And she forgets why she came here_

She shouldn't be surprised that Regina Mills is a great singer. Really, she shouldn't. Tink may like to exaggerate, but she never lies outright.

Regina's voice is different from Zelena's – slightly lower and huskier (and the absence of an obviously fake British accent makes it far more pleasant – come on, Zelena, you're not fooling anyone). She's probably the best they've heard all day, though Marian will readily admit she's biased: hearing a different song after thirty-odd iterations of one specifically selected to make her cry is such a breath of fresh air that she probably wouldn't care if it was sung by a tone-deaf walrus.

"I know, right?" Tink whispers, and Marian elbows her. They listen to the rest of the song in respectful silence, which is probably a record for Tink.

_Worry 'bout the maiden though you know__  
><em>_She's only waiting _

_Spent the whole life being graded on the sanctity of patience _

_And a dumb __appreciation__  
><em>_But the story needs some mending and a better happy ending__  
><em>_Cause I don't want the next best thing_

"That was amazing!" the blonde exclaims, applauding wildly, as soon as Regina finishes.

"It was alright," Marian concedes. "Maybe you're not a monster." She can't lay on the friendliness too heavily on the first day – she'd made that mistake with the older Mills sister, and look where it got her.

Regina immediately flees the stage, and Tink turns to Marian with shining eyes. "I told you she was good! It's a yes, isn't it? Please say it's a yes."

Marian shrugs as she starts slipping her feet back into her boots. She won't give Tink the satisfaction of a reply to her obnoxious "I told you so" moment, but she pries the Sharpie out of her friend's hand and makes a large check mark next to Regina Mills's name on the roster. Tink squeals.

"You're in charge of contacting everyone about initiation tomorrow," Marian calls over her shoulder, already halfway out the door. Soil samples do not label themselves. "If you mess it up, your budding sex life better not be an excuse!"

"You should try it!" Tink hollers after her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! Sorry this chapter took a bit longer than expected - I had life stuff going on and was struggling to select the perfect "awkward slow dance" song. On that note, feel free to send in song suggestions if you'd like (must be sung by ladies)!**

**.**

When Emma gets a paper bag thrown over her head on the way out of a movie screening for her Sociology class, her initial reaction is panic, followed by fist-clenching, elbow-throwing rage. "Shh, it's okay," says a soothing, if absurdly saccharine, female voice just behind her ear. "I'm taking you to the secret Sirens initiation."

"The secret _what?_" Emma groans. This is ridiculous – they could really set someone off with this little sneak-attack initiation game. Don't they have sensitivity training for this stuff? Her _syllabus_ has trigger warnings. She doesn't want to join a stupid a cappella group anyway – she'd only gone to support Mary Margaret because apparently her roommate can't do anything on her own. And besides, she has homework, not to mention a job that starts at six-thirty in the morning. She doesn't have time for this crap.

Well, she guesses she can just go to the initiation, congratulate Mary Margaret, then make an excuse and never the Sirens again until she's coerced into being an adoring fan at their concerts.

Honestly, for someone with all the privilege in the world, Mary Margaret is pretty low on the scale of self-actualization.

"Um, is there something wrong?" the voice asks hesitantly. "You're kind of muttering to yourself."

"How would you feel if someone ambushed you and stuck a paper bag over your head?" she growls.

"I'd be honored!" she hears in reply.

After a walk that seems to last a lifetime – Where the hell are they taking her? It feels like the woods. – Emma is told to stop and wait next to what feels like a crackling bonfire. Good lord (as Mary Margaret would say), she hopes they know what they're doing. The last thing she wants is to be caught in the middle of a forest fire.

"Ladies," she hears Zelena Mills voice proclaim, "I would like you to prepare to meet your new Sirens." A drum-roll begins, and then Zelena yells, "Emma and Kathryn!"

The paper bag is ripped off Emma's head at the same second Zelena uncorks a bottle of champagne and sends the cork flying. _No Mary Margaret,_ she realizes sadly, looking around the darkening clearing at the living proof of Regina Mills's assertion that her sister's obsessed with blondes.

Actually, no, Regina didn't say "obsessed." That, Emma's figuring out on her own.

"Bubbly?" someone offers. She's a sophomore – Emma thinks her name is Elsa, but she's not completely sure. Shrugging miserably, she takes it. It's the good stuff, nothing like the "champagne" the kids in her group home used to shoplift from convenience stores.

"Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore," she says under her breath and downs the rest of it in one gulp.

Zelena is instantly at her elbow with a refill. "Good, right?" she asks, cackling. "My mother should really learn to lock her wine cellar." Almost as quickly as she'd popped up, Zelena disappears. The next time Emma sees her, she's hanging onto Glinda's arm and giggling in a way that's probably supposed to be flirtatious but instead sounds like she's plotting the hostile takeover of a small continent.

Emma shakes her head. "Definitely not in Kansas."

* * *

><p>Regina knows what's coming when she hears the pounding on her door. She's listened to enough of Zelena's nonsensical, self-important stories to know exactly what aca-initiation entails. "I'm sorry for whatever is about to happen," she says to Rapunzel before opening the door. Her roommate just rolls her eyes, too enthralled by her "pleasure reading" that she likes to do for an hour every night in between math problem sets.<p>

Regina's not jealous – she's not. But Rapunzel is reading _Like Water for Chocolate_, which is her favorite book of all time, and she's about to interact socially with someone who enjoys creeping on other people's showers and someone she's pretty sure hates her because of an age-old blood feud with her sister, among others. She'd have time for pleasure reading if she wasn't being forced to torture herself with human companionship on a daily basis.

But it will all be worth it when she's opening the doors to her restaurant and the only conversations she'll need to have are with waiters.

"Hello Tink," she says exhaustedly, glaring into her RA's gleaming eyes for just a second before a paper bag is thrust over her face and she's dragged out of the room by one arm.

"Bye, have fun!" Rapunzel calls after them.

It's official, Regina hates her RA _and _her roommate.

When she's finally allowed use of her senses again, she's in a senior's dorm room (probably Marian's, if the hiking boots in the corner are any indication), lit only by a bunch of candles that are definitely against Housing regulations.

"Okay, let's get this over with," says Marian. "Apparently John lost twelve cans of beans and I have to get to the soup kitchen in thirty minutes or no one will be able to eat tonight. Everyone, please look around at your new a cappella mates! Tink, would you like to do the honors?"

"Welcome to the Regalers!" Tink squeals. "Now introducing our brand new members: Ruby, Tamara, Belle, Lacey, Mulan, Ariel, and Regina!"

Marian leans into Tink's ear, hand cupped over her mouth, and whispers, "No Aurora?"

"She was sleeping," the bouncing blonde explains as regretfully one could in such a giddy state. "Is everyone ready for the Regalers oath?"

"Repeat after me," Marian says solemnly. "I – sing your name -" (She cringes as everyone complies with varying degrees of competence.) "- promise to fulfill the duties and responsibilities of a Regaler, and I solemnly swear to never have sexual relations with a Siren, or may my vocal cords turn to icicles."

The new recruits stumble over the speech, and Regina rolls her eyes. All of the Regaler-hate she's heard from Zelena over the years is nothing compared to Marian's apparent loathing of everything her sister stands for. She'd almost love it, if it weren't for the unreasonably angry glare currently being directed at her. _I'm not Zelena_, she thinks as she glares back.

"Yay!" Tink exclaims, unaware of the tension thickening the air. Then, with a flourish, she pulls a shimmering tube out of her pocket and announces, "Now, to cement our bond as sisters, I will sprinkle you all with pixie dust!"

"Pixie dust?" demands Tamara. "I thought this was a singing group, not a...I don't even know. Fairy group?"

"What do you have against fairies?" Tink asks as she gleefully runs around the room, scattering glitter all over everyone. "Anyway, it's body glitter."

Marian, who's been texting furiously for the last minute, suddenly looks up and exclaims, "I said no pixie dust in my room! What is wrong with you?"

"Relax, Mar. I'll vacuum later. You got the wine, right?" Marian rolls her eyes and unearths a box of Shiraz and some very familiar-looking mugs from her closet.

"That's what I'm here for," says Lacey, gratefully accepting the first cup.

"Did you steal those from the café?" Regina asks quietly when Marian passes one to her. The senior instantly draws herself up, looking defensive.

"I do not _steal_. I borrowed them. Not all of us have an infinite supply of crystal champagne glasses at our disposal, and some people prefer not to destroy the planet with paper products!"

Regina blinks once or twice, shocked by the older girl's rage. "I'm just impressed you snuck them past Granny," she mutters, staring at her feet. "And if you need help returning them, I can take some back tomorrow morning. My shift's at six thirty, so –"

"You work at the café?" Marian interrupts.

"Yes, I pour coffee a few mornings a week. Do you have a problem with that?"

Seemingly surprised at the challenge in Regina's tone, Marian backs off. "Of course I don't have a problem, I was just...surprised. I mean –"

"If you're going to say something about my sister, then just don't."

"Right." Marian clears her throat and looks around the room. "Okay, I'm apparently being called in for an emergency, but I should be back in time for the AAIC. That's the, um, All-Aca Initiation Ceremony with the Sirens. I know, it sucks. I'm sorry. Tink can take care of you for an hour, right?"

"Who wants more wine?" Tink yells, fumbling with the box when she tries to pour wine and throw glitter at the same time.

"Isabella Tinkenheim, if you destroy my room –"

"Calm down, Mar!" Shaking her head in dismay, Marian walks backwards out the door. "She's a party pooper," Tink whispers to Belle and Mulan, both of whom look as though they'd like to leave, too. Then she switches grabs Marian's laptop and switches on "Pretty Hurts" before pushing people onto the makeshift dance floor she's created by shoving all of Marian's furniture into one corner.

Regina shuffles as far as the door and looks on as Ruby and Lacey start grinding together and Ariel starts what looks to be some kind of floor routine.

"So, this is interesting," Belle starts to remark. "I once read an interesting study of female social behavior that explains a lot of this...but not quite everything. Is that dance supposed to mimic the movements of a dying fish?"

"I should have gone to military school," Mulan replies, and then she hands her glass to Tamara and hoists herself up to do chin-ups on the door frame.

Regina wonders if her mother would be proud of all the new friends she's making – somehow, she thinks this isn't exactly what Cora had in mind.

* * *

><p>"Party time!" Ruby cheers as they enter the quad, dragging Lacey down to the punch table. Regina sees who's pouring and promptly hides behind Mulan and Belle, who are hanging back by the dorm steps.<p>

Belle blurts out, "I need to go to the library," at the same time Mulan mutters, "I need to go to the gym." Startled, they stare at each other for a moment before both of their eyes light up, as if recognizing a kindred spirit.

"Um...the humanities library or the science library?" Mulan asks shyly. "Just because, I mean, the gym is right next to the labs, so I could –"

"The science library," Belle immediately answers, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "I need to do some research for a biology report."

The two of them leave, talking animatedly about a professor they apparently both share, and Regina sighs. So much for that attempt at friendship.

She turns to Tamara next, who seems just as disillusioned by the college party scene as she does, but falls through, too, when Tamara shrugs and says, "Might as well drink if I have to be here anyway. Might make it all feel less ridiculous." Regina watches sadly as Tamara makes her way over to the punch table, dodging Ariel, who's dancing on the ground again, and demanding, "What are you doing, exactly?"

"The dance of my people," Ariel replies solemnly. "I was born with gills like a fish."

"Right," mutters Tamara as she backs slowly away.

There's a comment about drunken idiots on the tip of Regina's tongue, but then she remembers that Ariel had made a huge deal about the fact that she doesn't drink, so she's actually a sober idiot. That's less funny and more tragic.

"Regina Mills? No way!" she hears someone exclaim. Heart sinking, she turns to see Emma Swan approaching her. And if Emma's here, that means...

No, she can't be.

"I didn't see you at auditions," the blonde comments, sloshing the contents of her red Solo cup as she grins impishly at Regina's expression of horror. "Are you a Regalers special recruit?"

"What? No!" Regina exclaims. "I auditioned. I just...I was late, so you didn't see me. And neither did my sister," she adds under her breath.

"Probably a good thing. She's a little weird. Did you know she steals champagne from your mom? I think she's trying really hard to get all of us drunk."

"And apparently, she succeeded with one of you," Regina says, taking in Emma's slightly shaky stance and slurred, babbling speech. "I take it you're a Siren now?"

Emma groans and rolls her eyes. "It was supposed to be Mary Margaret!" she whines. "I don't know what happened."

"What happened is that you are one hundred percent Zelena's type and Mary Margaret isn't."

"How do I make it stop?"

"Dye your hair a different color," suggests Regina. "Maybe green? She hates green."

"I'll get right on that," Emma promises, staggering to the side and leaning not so subtly against Regina as she takes a long swig of her drink. Regina catches a whiff of it and vows to avoid the punch bowl at all costs – her sister's drinks are dangerously strong.

"You might want to take a break from the punch," she says, trying to ignore the warm, fluttery sensation that rises up from her belly when Emma leans against her.

"Or I should get some for you." Emma lets out an uncharacteristically shrill giggle and murmurs into Regina's ear, "They say it's a truth serum."

"Truth serum?" Regina asks with a forced laugh. "Who are you trying to extract the truth from?"

"You." Leaning even closer and bopping her nose lightly against Regina's, Emma whispers, "I'll ask you how you _really_ feel about me."

"How I really feel about you?" Regina squeaks. "We're – I –"

Thankfully, she's saved from having to answer by Zelena's sudden change in music selection. "Taylor Swift, really?" Emma complains. Then she shrugs, finishes her drink in one gulp, and tosses the cup at the trash can – miraculously, she makes it in. "Let's dance."

"You want to dance? With me?"

"Might as well. I mean, our esteemed leader won't let us leave, and there's nothing better to do. Don't see anyone prettier to dance with, either," she adds with a giant grin.

Oh god, she's blushing. She hopes it's dark enough that Emma won't notice.

What is wrong with her? It's not like "Shake it Off" is even slightly romantic.

Still, jumping around with Emma, singing loudly and shaking their bodies and whipping their hair back and forth (she briefly wonders if that'll be next on Zelena's playlist) is a lot of fun. She forgets, for a moment, that she's been forced to join an a cappella group and the leader seems to hate her and Zelena is here, likely to pop up and say something judgmental any minute. And when the song fades and a hysterically laughing Emma stumbles into her, there's something so wonderfully warm and comfortable about the way they're pressed together, even if Regina has to take a step backwards to stabilize herself under the unexpected weight.

"Ugh," Emma groans, leaning her head on Regina's shoulder, "I'm drunk."

"I noticed."

"Fuck your sister."

"Please don't," Regina replies automatically, and Emma laughs.

"I like you, Regina Mills," she declares. "I like you a lot." Regina feels her face start to heat up again, and Zelena's next song choice doesn't help the situation. "Spice Girls, huh?" Emma asks once she's had a moment to process it. "That's kind of a throwback."

"'2 Become 1' is Zelena's favorite make-out song," Regina explains, sneaking a glance across the quad to confirm that her sister has given up her bartending duties and is now dancing mouth-to-mouth with her blonde of the day – she thinks this one's name is Glinda, but she has trouble keeping track of them.

_"I need some love like I never needed love before_," Emma croons, wrapping her arms around Regina's waist and awkwardly swaying them back and forth to a rhythm that's just slightly off the song's. "This is fun, right?" she asks. "We're in college – this is what we're supposed to be doing."

"So I've been told," grumbles Regina. But Emma's right: this is fun. It's fun and it's something else, too, that she can't quite figure out. "You're a terrible dancer."

"Sorry," Emma says in a tone that doesn't sound sorry at all. "I don't have a whole lot of experience. I think you like it, though."

Blushing again, Regina has to nod, and she doesn't complain again for the remainder of the song.

As soon as it's over, though, Zelena hollers that it's time for "Siren Shots" and her sidekick-turned-girlfriend starts storming around the quad to round up the Sirens who don't immediately come running.

Regina sighs and deflates, feeling a strange combination of relief and longing, when Emma finally leaves. She feels her back go ramrod straight, though, when Marian locks eyes with her, lips pursed. "We have one rule," she says, her voice hardened by a terrifying quiet rage that makes Regina want to turn and run in the opposite direction.

"That was a dance, not sexual relations!" Regina argues, but Marian is unimpressed.

"Your toner is visible from miles away. It's like the Northern Lights."

"Excuse me? My _what?_"

"Toner – musical boner. You're in love with that girl – whoever she is."

"What? No!" Regina insists angrily. "I'm not in love with – no, that's silly. I'm not even interested in girls – not really, anyway."

Daniela doesn't really count, does she?

Marian laughs. "Yeah, right. Such a frosh. They all say that at first. Your sister claimed to be straight when she started."

"I'm not my sister."

"You have the same type."

"I do not have a type!" Regina protests. "I told you, I'm not –"

"- interested in girls. I know. Except that one, and then it'll be the next one, and the next one..."

"I'm not my sister!"

Marian gives her a hard look, but Regina stares her down, refusing to relent. She supposes it's not too late to quit this group and find another activity that will persuade her mother she's not a hermit. Finally, it's the senior who turns away first, and Regina feels a strange sense of pride.

Then she turns around and sees the Sirens in a circle taking shots and Zelena's arm creeping over Emma's shoulder, and she thinks she's about to throw up.

"I have to finish my homework," she abruptly tells Marian, who shrugs and waves a hand towards the library as if to grant permission. Grateful, Regina breaks out into a jog almost as soon as she thinks no one is looking, and she's practically sprinting by the time she reaches Forest Hall.

Finally, she collapses against the side of the building, panting as she tries to figure out what the hell is wrong with her.

One thing is very clear, though: she _hates_ a cappella.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks, everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I hopefully replied to all of you, but I'm sorry if I haven't. I would also like to apologize to anyone who enjoys the song "Total Eclipse of the Heart."

* * *

><p>"Morning, sis," Zelena chirps merrily as Regina groans and considers the potential merits of face-planting into her scrambled eggs. It figures that the <em>one<em> time she decides to eat breakfast in the dining hall instead of grabbing a bagel to-go after her shift, she runs into her sister. She'd been so excited, too: inspired by Rapunzel to devote an hour to pleasure reading, she'd even convinced her mother to drop by the café with her favorite book.

"What are you doing here?" she grumbles.

"Eating breakfast," Zelena replies, mask of innocence firmly in place.

Regina sighs impatiently. "You know what I mean!" she whines. "Why are you bothering me?"

"Oh, you know." Zelena flashes her a wicked, almost predatory, smile as she pulls out the chair across from Regina and perches at the edge of it. "Sisterly concern, sisterly advice. I noticed you eating alone and thought I might remedy the situation."

Staring longingly at the book beside her glass of orange juice, Regina answers in a monotone, "Did it occur to you that I might be eating alone by choice?" Zelena follows her gaze and smirks.

"_Como agua para chocolate? _How original. You've certainly never read that one before. Although, I have to say I'm surprised they're teaching that – props to the Spanish department for finally diversifying the curriculum. In my day, we just had three different classes on _Don Quixote_, and I guess Dad always had his hard-on for Gabo. "

"It's not for Spanish class. I'm not even taking Spanish class – I tested out of the language requirement."

"Well, aren't you special? I guess those summers in Puerto Rico with those girls you totally weren't gay for must have paid off. It's shocking you can say anything besides '_vamos a chichar_.'"

"Will you keep it down?" hisses Regina, face crimson. "There was only one girl, and I'm not gay, and we didn't - this is pleasure reading!"

"Pleasure reading?" Zelena wrinkles her nose. "I'll leave you to enjoy that while you can, then, before a cappella starts to take over your life. Even in the Rejects...the group's shit, but Marian Knighton is serious business."

"Our name isn't the Rejects," Regina growls.

"If you can say Regalers without laughing, I'll concede your point."

Regina doesn't even try. Instead, she closes her book and stares her sister down. "Speaking of Marian Knighton, what the hell did you do to make her hate you so much?"

"Why? Is she giving you any trouble?"

Are her eyes deceiving her, or does Zelena actually look concerned for a second? She blinks once, and then again, and it's gone. "No – yes – not really – it's nothing I can't handle," she answers in rapid-fire. Zelena rolls her eyes.

"I can talk to her if you want." It's a bland offer, given without much thought, but the very idea fills Regina with dread.

"No!" She sits bolt upright in her chair, eyes wide. "I don't want her to think – she already associates me with you, and I don't –"

"You want her to forget we're related? Good luck with that."

Regina shakes her head vigorously. God, she can't think of anything worse than Zelena confronting Marian – she'd never live it down. Not that she can even picture the interaction happening in the first place; Zelena would probably find a hot girl on the way over and forget everything in the rush to take her clothes off. "No, I just...will you at least tell me why? Am I correct in assuming you did something terrible to her?"

"Well, partially. I mean, it was less a case of one _terrible_ thing that I did and more a case of numerous semi-bad things that I did that added up in her mind into something terrible. And, in retrospect, she may have had a point."

Wow. Regina really wishes she had a camera with her, because this is unprecedented. She needs more. "For example?"

"Um..." Suddenly, Zelena starts to clam up, and Regina's fascination sky-rockets "It's not really my story to tell," she mumbles.

"Don't tell me you're suddenly learning to respect other people's feelings."

"Maybe I am; maybe if I'd done that four years ago, Marian and I might get along a little better."

"You _have_ to tell me now. I have to spend two hours a day with her, three to six days a week," Regina complains. "I need _something_."

Zelena sighs. "You know Marian," she says with a slight eye-roll. "Everything she does is one hundred percent, full-speed ahead commitment."

"Yeah, I think I've figured that out."

"Right, and you know how _I_ was during my first year here."

"I know how you bragged about being when you came home for Thanksgiving dinner and Mom made Henry wear earplugs and then sent you to therapy."

"That was...well, it may have been slightly exaggerated, but not much."

Regina takes a moment to put two and two together – she's exhausted – but once the pieces start to fit, she groans and glares accusingly at her sister. "You didn't."

Zelena shrugs.

"Zelena!"

"I've got to get to an advisor meeting," Zelena says stiffly. "Professor Gold frowns on tardiness, as I'm sure you're aware. Good luck with the Rejects – don't let them turn you into more of a loser than you already are, but I'm not sure that's possible."

With that, she rises and strides out of the dining hall without so much as a goodbye.

Regina sinks down in her chair, muttering to herself. Neither her book nor her breakfast holds any appeal anymore.

"Hey, Regina!" she suddenly hears from behind her left ear. She turns and forces a smile when she finds herself face-to-face with Ruby and Lacey. "That your sister?" Lacey asks curiously.

"She's –"

"She's _hot_!" Ruby exclaims while Lacey nods along. "Do you think she's interested in threesomes?"

* * *

><p>"Everybody, gather around!" Tink chirps while Marian crouches in the corner, stapling piles of paper together. "Sopranos in the front; altos in the back! Who's excited for our first rehearsal?"<p>

The new Regalers glance at each other and shrug uncomfortably. The auditorium, at least to Regina, seems big and ominous and uninviting. The walls are lined with pictures of Sirens from years past, staring down at them in a way that looks vaguely menacing. "Is it just me, or do they all look kind of the same?" Mulan says under her breath.

Belle narrows her eyes and studies the pictures carefully. "There's definitely a strong resemblance," she agrees. "I'd even speculate that two of them are related."

Zelena _would_ take pride in doing it with two sisters. Groaning loudly, Regina turns her back on the offending photographs and stalks her way over to the two rows of chairs. "What are we singing today?" asks Ruby, the only one who actually appears excited to be there.

"I'm about to pass out a list of songs we've performed in the past," Marian says, finally finished with her stack of song sheets arranged just-so. "If you have any suggestions, feel free to approach me or Tink about them. Please notice, though, that in SU tradition, we only do songs performed or made famous by women."

"I like it," Tamara whispers into Ariel's ear, and a few of the others nod their approval. Regina browses the list and shrugs. It's a decent enough list, but far too similar to the Sirens' to merit her approval.

She must be frowning, because Marian suddenly demands, "What's the matter, Mills?"

_Mills? Is that what you're going with?_ she thinks tiredly before answering, "Nothing's wrong. They're great songs – that a certain someone you despise enjoys singing in the shower." That might not have been her greatest move, come to think of it. But she's already committed, and Marian isn't exactly winning herself any sympathy points.

Her comment draws an arched eyebrow. "Your point?" Marian demands.

"Nothing, nothing," Regina says mischievously, "just that you share some surprising similarities with someone you claim to hate."

Marian's eyes flash with anger, arms stiff by her sides with fists clenched. She opens her both to speak, but nothing comes out apart from a small squeak.

"Oh no," murmurs Tink, trying and failing to hide a groan. "Mar, it's okay. Just breathe. We don't want a repeat of what happened at ICCA's sophomore year."

The frosh exchange puzzles glances. "What happened sophomore year?" Lacey finally asks.

Almost instantaneously, Ariel whips a tablet out of her bag and starts searching for the performance.

"When Marian gets upset, she...um, she freezes," Tink explains, with an apologetic smile at the woman she's discussing. "Just before we went on stage, someone –"

"Zelena Mills," Marian grits out.

"Zelena said something that was apparently upsetting to her, and –"

Tink doesn't get a chance to say what happened next, because they're all seeing it with their own eyes on Ariel's screen. The group is walking onto the stage, they're starting to sing, Marian is walking to the front to begin her solo, and then...

"Tough break," Tamara says sympathetically, "stage fright sucks," and Belle mumbles her agreement.

"What did Zelena say?" Ruby wonders out loud, and Marian growls before snatching the tablet away.

"That's more than enough!" she exclaims. "Now, let's discuss our rehearsal schedule. We'll meet from 8-10 PM, starting three nights a week and increasing as competition season draws closer. Will this be a problem for anyone?"

"Um, I work in the library on Friday nights," Belle says quietly. Lacey snorts and quickly covers her mouth with her hand.

"We'll work around that. Now, I expect you all to add your own cardio."

"Cardio? I can deal with that," says Ruby, flexing her calves.

Mulan raises her hand and asks, "What about weight training?"

Regina leans back in her chair and sighs, noting that Marian, while no longer "frozen," still seems a bit shaken up. "That went well," she mumbles to herself, realizing that she's perhaps a bit more like her sister than she'd ever be willing to acknowledge.

It's a troubling thought – one that no amount of singing and dancing to Christina Aguilera hits from the early 2000s will eradicate. She _needs_ to figure out what happened. And maybe set it right before she ends up in her own a cappella feud.

* * *

><p>Regina keeps her head down as she furiously scrubs coffee mugs, eyes painfully averted from the blonde she's forced to share the kitchen with. Every time she looks at Emma, all she can see is Zelena's arm creeping over her shoulder and...<p>

No, she can't think any further than that.

"Fun night last Friday, right?" Emma asks lightly, seemingly unaware of Regina's internal battle.

She doesn't reply.

"I don't know about this whole a cappella thing, though. Honestly, your sister's kind of a slave driver."

This time, she can't help herself. "In bed?" she asks scathingly.

"What?" Emma sounds so shocked that Regina, against her better judgment, looks up. Emma's eyes are wide and her mouth hanging open.

"Just...you know," Regina mumbles, quickly looking back at the sink, "she has a tendency to get to know her group-mates in that capacity, if you know what I mean."

Emma taps one foot thoughtfully on the floor for a moment before musing, "I don't know about that. Maybe she used to, but she and Glinda seemed pretty exclusive. She wasn't really paying attention to anyone else...nothing beyond flirting, anyway."

For some reason, the thought of her sister in a committed relationship – well, actually, more like the thought of anything that causes her sister to ignore Emma – makes Regina's heart soar. She tries to hide her smile, though: it's not like Emma will actually believe she's genuinely happy for Zelena after everything she's said in the past.

"How nice for them," she says evenly. "I hope they'll be very happy together, for as long as Glinda can tolerate my sister's dramatics, anyway."

_Nailed it._

"Oooookay, Miss Prim and Proper," Emma jokes.

Regina feels her face burn. "Do you have a problem with the way I speak?"

"No?" Emma replies, confused. "You just seem to go out of your way to use big words sometimes."

"We're in college; we're supposed to have good vocabularies," Regina mutters, kicking at an imaginary speck of dust on the floor. "And you'd go out of your way to speak well, too, if everyone in your backwoods Maine high school got a huge kick out of pretending you didn't know English!"

"Oh." Emma stares at her feel, nose wrinkled. "That sucks."

"Well, I'm over it," Regina says quickly. And loudly. Maybe too loudly. "Back to Zelena. What did she do now?"

Shrugging uncomfortably, Emma replies, "Nothing, really. Just, like, she kind of makes it seem like we're supposed to care about the Sirens and nothing else."

"That's not surprising. I mean, _she_ cares about the Sirens and nothing else. Maybe sex is on the list, too, but she used to get that in the supply closet after rehearsal."

"And there's something I never needed to know." Emma's groaning, but she's grinning at the same time, and Regina can't help but giggle.

"Sorry," she says, feeling her cheeks turn pink.

"But on the bright side, she takes all the solos for herself, so I don't need to learn all of the words to 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' anytime soon."

Regina's eyes widen – she'd honestly thought Zelena was over that song after singing it about fifty-seven times in one shower two Christmases ago, using all of their hot water and flooding the bathroom. "I am so sorry!" she exclaims.

Emma shrugs again. "To be honest, I don't know if I'm gonna keep doing it. Seems like kind of a huge time commitment, and I have to get over a 3.0 if I want to keep my scholarship. I think I could do it, but I want to still have time for my art, you know?"

"Art? Like drawing?"

"Yeah," says Emma, bouncing back and forth on her feet to shake off some excess nervous energy. "Drawing, painting – mostly people, but sometimes I try still life or landscape just for fun. I could show you sometime, if you're interested."

Trying to ignore her heart pounding practically out of her chest – Is this what an "eclipse of the heart" feels like? She'll never know. – Regina nods eagerly, eyes shining."I'd like that a lot."

"Maybe the same time you teach me to cook. I've been looking up some recipes."

"You have?" she squeaks, and then mentally kicks herself. She's not Zelena, but maybe – _maybe_ – she has a mild crush on Emma Swan. Even though Emma is a girl. She might even be mildly interested in girls.

But Regina has a Zelena-sized (and Zelena-voiced) chip on her shoulder reminding her that, until Emma keeps her word and quits the Sirens, she's completely off-limits. _She_ won't be that kind of Mills. No one is freezing on her watch.

Suddenly, Granny's irritated sigh comes from the doorway. "Get to work, girls!" she hollers. "I didn't hire you to be useless."

* * *

><p>Tink and Marian are arguing again.<p>

Well, to be fair, Regina probably can't say "again" because their lives seem to revolve around one big argument that never stops for more than half a day at a time. It's a strange sort of friendship they have: constantly at each other's throats over the smallest things, but at each other's backs the instant any outside conflict arises.

She might even call it a good friendship, not that she's ever had one to compare it to, if it weren't quite so annoying to witness from the outside.

"We need to do something new and different. It's like that frosh said," Marian argues (She refuses to speak Regina's name ever since the freezing incident, and for her part, Regina has spent the last few rehearsals sitting silently and doing what she's told.). "Our track list is too similar to the Sirens'. We _need_ to stand out if we want to get any recognition."

"Since when are we in this for recognition?" Tink demands with a slight whine to her voice. "We joined this group because we wanted to sing together and have fun, not because we wanted to compete with people."

Marian sighs, forces a smile, and says very pedantically, "You had your reasons for joining the group; I had mine. And my reasons did not include becoming the laughingstock of SU!"

"We're not the laughingstock," Tink mumbles. Then she sniffles – is she _crying_? – and say haughtily, waving her fingers around, "Fine, let's pick some 'new' and 'different' songs, then. Something we've never done before. Something completely stupid and out-of-left-field that will just blow everyone's minds. Why not some Bonnie Tyler?"

Marian exclaims, "Are you out of your mind?" at the same time Regina leaps out of her seat and practically yells, "No!"

They stare at each other, surprised, for a moment.

"Do you have something to say, Regina?" Marian finally asks.

"Maybe something about how there's nothing new and different about 'Total Eclipse of the Heart,'" Tamara mutters.

"Or that it's really, really stupid," Lacey agrees.

Tink looks like she's about to cry.

"Um, no," Regina replies quickly, "just that it's not out of left field if the Sirens are doing the same thing, right?"

Everyone turns to stare at her. "What do you know about it?" asks Marian. "They're not actually singing that, are they? It's awful." Tink stares at the floor, chewing her lower lip.

Regina looks around nervously, uneasy at being the center of attention. "That's what I've heard," she says quietly.

"I thought you didn't speak to your sister?"

Of course _that's_ what Marian chooses to focus on. Honestly. She sighs and then shrugs one shoulder. Telling them the information came from a different source would raise more questions than she'd like to deal with. "I never said I didn't speak to her," she argues. "Just that we're not the same person."

Marian studies her for a moment, head cocked to one side.

"You know, if we're going to compete with the Sirens, it would be nice to have an inside source," Belle suddenly pipes up.

Mulan nods vigorously. "Inside information can be very important – wars have been won and lost on the basis of strategic espionage."

Regina looks around at the rest of the Regalers and notes with dismay that they're all grinning enthusiastically about this new battle plan. Even Tink has perked up. "This will be so much fun," she squeals. "Like war games at summer camp."

Marian, however, is all business. "Will you do it?" she asks solemnly. "I never like to use dirty tactics, but any leg up we can get on the Sirens could be helpful when we're starting from nothing."

Somehow, she feels like she's betrayed Emma already by sharing even that tiny bit of information. Not that Emma cares – Emma doesn't even want to be in a cappella. Then again, neither does Regina, and look what she's already doing. She's becoming just like Zelena, letting some petty rivalry take precedence over a friendship.

Then again, she also has to right Zelena's wrongs, and that includes convincing Marian that not all Mills sisters are inherently evil.

_I'm not my sister_, she thinks to herself before nodding miserably and saying, "Whatever."


	7. Chapter 7

**No songs in this one, sorry, but plenty of SQ moments. I'm still open to suggestions if you've got ideas for what the group should perform!**

* * *

><p>"Okay, lasagna has a lot of components and might appear difficult at first glance, but it's actually quite simple," Regina recites, grateful that she still remembers the script from the Youtube cooking channel she'd intended to start in high school before her mother had talked her out of it. ("You don't want to publicly embarrass yourself, Regina. That kind of thing can come back to bite you when you're applying to colleges or jobs.")<p>

Emma nods along, jotting down a few quick notes in the pad she'd insisted on bringing, even though Regina had assured her it was unnecessary.

"The best thing about the dish is that it's entirely customizable - your own artwork that you can create from a palette of your choosing." She'd added in that line just for Emma. "The three essential ingredients are noodles, tomato sauce, and cheese, but anything else you add is entirely up to you."

"Cool," says Emma, and Regina quickly turns to retrieve a pan before Emma can see the way she's beaming at the praise.

"What're you doing?" Henry demands, poking his head in from the living room, where he's been playing whatever Medieval roleplay game he's into these days. She and Zelena had never been allowed video games when they were his age. "Are you talking to yourself again? Because that was really weird when you did it before." He finally catches sight of Emma and stops short. "Oh, hi."

Regina clears her throat and says, "Henry, this is my friend Emma. Emma, meet my little brother."

"Nice to meet you, kid," Emma says brightly. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Yeah, I'm Regina's favorite sibling," he boasts, proudly puffing out his chest before adding as an aside, "Not that there's much competition. Also, I think I've met you. You're the one with the yellow car."

Emma smacks a palm to her forehead and exclaims, "That's right! We met on the first day of orientation. I can't believe I forgot. I guess I just thought you looked way too old and mature to be Regina's kid brother she kept talking about, you know?"

Henry grins widely, and Regina rolls her eyes. _Emma certainly knows how to be charming,_ she thinks, smiling to herself as she washes her hands. Henry is already smitten, hanging on his new friend's every word. "If I help you guys cook, can I have some lasagna?" he begs.

After a quick glance at Regina to confirm, Emma replies, "Yeah, of course. We weren't going to eat all of it ourselves, were we? I mean, I probably _could,_ but apparently that's kind of rude."

Regina laughs and tosses two aprons to them. "Wash your hands and let's get started. Do you want meat lasagna or vegetable lasagna?"

"Can't we have both?" Henry whines.

"I was asking Emma! I don't know if she's a vegetarian or something."

"Oh,' Emma mumbles, looking surprised, "no way. I'll eat anything you put in front of me. Let's do both!"

She and Henry exchange high fives, and Regina is about to open the refrigerator when she hears her mother's voice from the doorway. "What's all this?" asks Cora, holding out her hand to shake Emma's with a smile that's pleasant enough, at least for the moment. "Hello, I'm Cora Mills."

"Dean Mills, hi. I'm Emma Swan. I'm a freshm- frosh. I meant frosh."

"Don't worry, dear, you can call yourself whatever you like. I don't subscribe to the same asinine brand of plastic political correctness that President Blanchard espouses, but don't tell her I said that."

"Mother!" Regina hisses, mortified. "Mary Margaret is Emma's roommate."

"Oh, well then." Cora sniffs and says, "The girl seems a bit of an improvement on her mother: always so earnest and sincere."

"Mary Margaret is definitely sincere," Emma agrees, although she looks vaguely uncomfortable.

Regina cringes as Cora perches herself on a stool and settles in for a conversation. "Emma Swan," she muses. "Interesting name. How, exactly, did you come to know my daughter? She's not exactly known for her sociability."

"Mother!"

"We met while we were moving in," Emma says with a shrug, "and we work in the coffee shop together. And, I mean, we're in separate a cappella groups, but we end up seeing each other a bunch because of that, too, so -"

"Pardon me?" Cora interrupts, and Regina sighs loudly. Evidently, Emma hadn't noticed her frantically waving arms behind her mother's head. "Regina, I didn't know you were doing a cappella as well."

Regina scowls. "Well, now you do," she mutters. "You told me to sign up for an activity, and I did. Now, if you don't mind, we were going to start making lasagna."

"Why didn't you say anything? I'd be happy to help if your group needs any help with rehearsal or party spaces - that's how Zelena became the group leader, you know."

"Mother, can we not do this _now?"_ Regina pleads. "I don't want to be a leader, anyway."

Snorting, Cora replies loftily, "Of course you do, darling. You just haven't realized it yet."

"Mother, can we talk? In the hall?" Regina asks through gritted teeth. When her mother doesn't respond immediately, she grabs the sleeve of Cora's blazer and tugs her away from Emma. "You have to stop embarrassing me in front of my friends!" she hisses once they're out earshot.

"Regina, darling, if your friends are going to turn against you because _your mother_ says something that bothers them, then they're not truly your friends to begin with."

"How does that line of logic even work!?"

Cora sighs. "Your family is a very important part of you," she says with obviously forced patience. "And if someone can't accept everything about you, then they're not worthy of your friendship."

"That is for me to decide!" Regina exclaims. "And frankly, it's none of your business, which is why I didn't tell you about a cappella! I don't want you showing up and ruining everything like you always do." _Like you did with Daniela,_ she thinks irritably, but she doesn't say it aloud because Cora will never let that one go.

"Suit yourself," her mother sniffs. "But you should know, Regina, that you'll never find people who fully accept you until you fully accept yourself."

"Still none of your business," she mutters. "Are we done here?"

Before Cora can reply, Regina is already stalking back to the kitchen, where Emma and Henry are animatedly discussing his latest writing project. "Emma's going to be my illustrator!" he exclaims, holding up some preliminary sketches that had somehow been finished in the short time she was out of the room.

She can't help but feel vaguely jealous as she watches the easy camaraderie that seems to have developed so quickly between her brother and her -

"Shit!" she hollers as the massive glass jar of homemade tomato sauce she'd frozen that summer slips out of her hands and lands with a thud on her foot. Thankfully, the glass doesn't shatter, and Regina can't help but feel she caught a lucky break. She was about to subconsciously label Emma her "crush."

And that just can't be true.

* * *

><p>"So, um, what do you need me to do?" Regina asks uneasily, looking around Emma's room with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. It looks about the way she'd expect it to – half flouncy pastels, half minimalist – but she's not sure how she feels about the reason she's here.<p>

When Emma had complained the previous morning about the Sirens' rehearsals conflicting with her studio time, Regina eagerly volunteered to help in whatever way she could, excited at the prospect of spending more time with one of the first friends who hasn't been scared off by her mother.

But now it just feels awkward.

Emma checks her watch and sighs. "We probably have time for one pose," she reports. "Rehearsal's in half an hour."

"Sorry," Regina mumbles.

"No, it's not your fault," Emma replies almost immediately. "I wanted to wait until Mary Margaret was out of the room. She can be kind of awkward about these kinds of things."

"What kinds of things?"

"Nudity."

"Right, nudity." Regina had somehow forgotten that figure drawing involved nude models. She takes a deep breath, counts to five, and exhales. "So, should I take off my clothes, then?"

Emma eyes her curiously. "If you're comfortable with it," she says. "I mean, we don't have to do this."

"No, it's fine. I'm perfectly comfortable with my body," Regina insists, stripping everything off before she has a chance to over-think it. She may be perfectly comfortable with her body, but there's something about Emma's eyes on her body that makes her shy. She chooses to ignore it.

"Um, okay," Emma says, staring down at her shuffling feet, "then you can just, like, sit – or stand, I guess – wherever you want. The lighting is crap pretty much everywhere, but we'll figure it out." In the end, Regina winds up on the edge of Emma's bed, back straight and hands resting on her knees. "You can, like, relax a little," Emma suggests. "It's going to be a fifteen-minute pose, so sitting like a lady can get uncomfortable. Our first model sat with her legs wide open." Then, as if she's reconsidering, she adds, "That was a little awkward. Maybe don't do that."

Regina relaxes her posture just a little and watches with interest as Emma sets up her sketchbook and pencils and starts a timer. "So, do I just sit here and wait?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Emma replies, shrugging her shoulders before starting to draw in a few long, sweeping strokes across the paper.

"And you just...draw?"

"Yep."

God, she wishes she could see what was happening on that page, but Emma has the sketchbook propped up fairly close to her chest.

"And you don't get bored?"

"I don't know," Emma mutters, maybe a bit impatiently. "I find ways to pass the time – we can listen to music, talk – as long as you don't talk with your hands. But mostly I'm supposed to concentrate. On drawing you."

"Right," says Regina, shrinking as Emma's eyes wander down her body, that somehow feels even more exposed than before.

"Don't move," Emma orders.

She doesn't move – or speak – again until ten minutes later, when Emma says through the pencil in her teeth, "Your brother's pretty cool."

"He is," Regina agrees, letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in, although it's slightly strange to be chatting about her family when she's naked. "He's really excited you're going to help him with his book."

"I'm excited, too. It'll be good practice for me." She takes a moment to erase something and re-shade it, and then says quietly, "Your family's great, actually. I mean, your mom's kind of a piece of work – so's your sister – but they're, like, hilarious. You don't have to be embarrassed by them."

Regina's face burns and she imagines that if she looked down, her whole body would be crimson. "I just...I know I should be grateful, but they can be kind of taxing to live with."

And she feels like a huge idiot, knowing how grateful Emma would be to have _any_ family, much less one half as good as hers.

Emma shrugs one shoulder, face screwed up in concentration as she studies her drawing. "Don't worry about it," she says distractedly. "I get it – not all families are perfect. It must feel kind of off with your dad gone, too, right? Zelena said he was in South America finding his Gabo, whatever that means."

"Gabriel Garcia Marquez – like, the most famous Latin American author."

"I've heard of him. He wrote the one about the old people falling in love, yeah?"

"Yeah. My dad's obsessed with him. He's a writer and he thinks, like, he'll get some kind of divine inspiration if he's near Gabo's birthplace. It's stupid. I mean, it's not _stupid_, but..."

Her voice trails off, but thankfully Emma nods her understanding, finally looking Regina in the eyes instead of scrutinizing every inch and curve of her body. "It sucks," Emma supplies.

"I miss him," Regina admits, feeling a tear slip out of her eye before she can hold it back. She's not allowed to move her hands to wipe it off her cheek. "It feels really weird without him."

"What – wait, don't cry!" Emma immediately jumps out of her chair and pulls Regina into her arms, letting her sketchbook fall to the floor.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to!" Regina exclaims, and Emma bursts out laughing.

"I know," she says, reaching out to grab a box of tissues.

"I'm out of the pose now," Regina mumbles as she quickly dabs the tears off of her face and wipes her nose. "I ruined your homework."

"Nah, I broke the number one rule of figure drawing: don't discuss anything upsetting with your subjects. Anyway, I was almost done, so it's not a huge deal. It's supposed to be a fifteen-minute sketch, not the fucking Venus de Milo."

"Isn't that a statue?" Regina asks.

"Same difference. It's big, fancy art. Want to see my extremely un-Venus-de-Milo-like sketch of you?"

When Regina nods her assent, Emma retrieves her sketchbook from the floor and passes it over. It's a rough pencil sketch, probably dozens of hours of work away from "masterpiece" status, but by Regina's standards, it's amazing.

"You're really talented," she breathes, awestruck.

"Thank you," Emma replies with a mock bow. "If you ever need my services for your official portrait, let me know."

"My official portrait?"

"Is that not something that rich people do?"

"Oh, of course it is," Regina jokes, "but I've already had mine done. I might convince my mother to commission you to redo it, though; the other guy made my ass too big."

Emma blinks, confused. "Wait, what? I can't tell if you're being serious right now."

"Yes and no," Regina says, elbowing Emma playfully in the chest. "My ass _does_ look huge in my senior portrait. It's a photograph, though."

"I like you, Regina Mills," Emma says, smirking. Their faces are inching closer and closer together, and Regina feels an odd burning sensation radiating up from the pit of her stomach. Her breath catches in her throat, and she wonders if she's blushing. Emma's hand, soft and cool, rests on the small of her back while the other brushes a lock of hair out of her eyes, and Regina suddenly remembers that she is very, very naked. "You're fucking weird, but I like you."

Emma had said that once before, but hearing the words when they're both perfectly sober makes Regina's knees weak. Just as Regina leans in closer, lifting her hands up to grip Emma's waist, the blonde suddenly jerks her head up in response to a loud knock. "Emma! We're going to be late for rehearsal!"

"One sec!" Emma replies, hurriedly thrusting one of her giant sleep-shirts into Regina's hands. "The Sirens probably don't need to see you without your clothes on, right?"

Regina's face truly is burning as she pulls the shirt over her head, though she's unsure whether it's with embarrassment or anger. _What the hell is wrong with Zelena_? she wonders. A cappella rehearsal in the middle of the night? Well, it's only nine, but still... it's already past her own group leader's bedtime: Marian apparently goes for a sunrise hike every morning.

Emma waits until Regina is presentable before opening the door to a tall, thin blonde girl who could probably pass as her sister. "Hey, Elsa," she says with a forced chuckle. "Sorry, just running a little late tonight." Elsa nods, but her eyes (of course) immediately zero in on Regina, and then the clothes on the bed next to her.

"Oh!" she exclaims, eyebrows practically at her hairline. "I think I must be interrupting something."

"No, nothing like that," Regina jumps to reassure her. "It wasn't – we're not –"

"Regina was just helping me out with my project for figure-drawing class," Emma explains smoothly. "I, um... I couldn't make it to the studio during the scheduled time because of Sirens practice, so I had to find my own model."

"Oh, okay," says Elsa, grinning shyly at Emma. "You're an artist? I'd love to see your work sometime. I bet it's amazing."

"Uh...yeah, sure, sometime," Emma mumbles. "Not now, though – duty calls. Regina, are you okay with letting yourself out after you get dressed? Don't bother locking the door: Mary Margaret doesn't believe in it."

Regina rolls her eyes. It's not like she can say no, can she? "Sure, that's okay," she squeaks through a tightened throat. "Have fun at rehearsal."

"Yeah, real likelihood of that. See ya later, weirdo!" Emma shoots her a conspiratorial grin as she closes the door behind her, and Regina sinks into the bed and buries her face in her hands. What just happened? Did they almost kiss? _Would_ they have kissed if they hadn't been interrupted?

Her mind is raging against Elsa for ruining the moment and Zelena for scheduling rehearsals at the most inopportune times, all the while wondering why she even cares. Does she even _want_ to kiss Emma?

No, of course not. It was just her hormones doing strange things because she was naked around another person. That happens, right? It hadn't with Tink, of course, but that's because –

She can't explain it. Not now. She just needs to get dressed and get out of here before fucking President Blanchard's daughter gets back and starts asking all manner of nosy questions.

Out of spite – even though she can't quite put a finger on what she's angry about – she locks the door behind her and sprints, holding back tears all the way, down the long hallway and into her room before collapsing onto Rapunzel's bed.

"Is this the walk of shame?" her roommate asks, barely looking up from her book. "Your shirt isn't buttoned."


	8. Chapter 8

**Acknowledgements**: Many thanks to jinxtergrid and kshaar (or whoever you are now) for the help with Regina and Emma's screen names, and ohmcsexy for the song suggestion.

**Notes:** The song the Regalers perform in the competition is "Bed of Lies" by Nicki Minaj feat. Skylar Grey. The Sirens, as mentioned previously, perform "Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler. And, naturally, the song referenced during Cardio Day is "I'll Make a Man Out of You" from _Mulan._

* * *

><p>Regina groans and rolls over in bed as three <em>pings<em> in a row come from her phone. With a loud grunt, she just barely manages to reach down to her desk and grab it. "That's new and different," Rapunzel comments, barely turning away from her mirror.

"What? Getting messages in the morning?" Regina asks groggily. It's her day off from the café and it's far too early to decipher cryptic remarks.

"No, you getting messages at all," Rapunzel replies. Her voice is devoid of judgment – it's not like _she_ gets any messages either – but Regina still feels slightly attacked.

"Probably just my brother wanting to borrow something," she mutters, but her jaw drops when she looks at the screen.

It's not Henry.

(7:58 AM)  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: hey.  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: sorry abt last nite.  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: didn't mean to make u cry and run out.

Her mind races. This isn't just _any_ old morning texter: it's Emma. Emma who had almost kissed her last night. Emma who makes her heart race and her face feel like it's on fire.

What the hell is she supposed to say?

(8:00 AM)  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: hey, u ok?  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: oh shit ur sleeping!  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: SO SORRY.

The fact that Emma is obviously a bit flustered herself only gives Regina a tiny confidence boost, but it's enough for her to take a deep breath and reply.

(8:01 AM)  
><strong>rmills0201<strong>: Don't worry about it. I know you can't get out of rehearsal.  
><strong>rmills0201<strong>: I hope you get a good grade on your drawing.

_I hope you get a good grade? What the hell? _Regina internally curses herself for being so socially clueless. Friendship, crush, whatever this is – she was not built for it. What's Emma going to think of a message like that? She can only imagine that prolonged contact will destroy whatever "weird girl" charm Emma sees in her sooner or later; she supposes it might as well be sooner.

Her phone screen lights up with Emma's reply and Regina braces herself for the inevitable.

(8:02 AM)  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: ya me too.  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: the prof better hang it on the wall.

Regina cocks her head to one side in confusion.

(8:03 AM)  
><strong>rmills0201<strong>: That might be awkward.

(8:04 AM)  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: ok ur right. don't want the whole art dept to see ur naked body.  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: maybe i'll just hang it on my wall.  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: ;-P

Staring at her phone in shock, Regina reads the series of messages once...and then a second time...and then a third, and she's still not sure she understands. Did Emma just say she wanted Regina's naked body on her wall? Or was the winking emoticon supposed to mean she doesn't?

_Is this...? Are they...?_

(8:06 AM)  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: hey u wanna hang out again sometime? when we don't have rehearsal?  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: maybe less nudity this time tho ;)  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: or nudity's cool if ur into that.

Regina gapes at her phone screen.

"What's going on?" demands Rapunzel, finally setting down her hairbrush and beginning a long, intricate braiding process. "What's with that look on your face? Are you sexting?"

"Since when are you so nosy?" Regina complains.

"Since you came rushing back in here last night with your face all red and your shirt unbuttoned. I don't get out much, okay? I need to live vicariously through you."

"Or you could just...you know, get out more," Regina mutters.

"Or you could tell me what happened. Seems like maybe you need someone to talk to."

Regina sighs. "I was modeling for Emma. For her figure drawing class." When Rapunzel doesn't seem to get it, she shakes her head and whispers, _"Nude_ modeling."

Her roommate, irritatingly, just shrugs. "Okay," she says, "that's kind of weird, but, like, it's art, right? That's how it is."

"I know," Regina says miserably, "but then we started talking about...just stuff." _Stuff?_ She cringes. Since when does she say _stuff__?_ "So, we were talking, and then...I don't know! I think we might have almost kissed!"

"You _think?"_ Rapunzel repeats, rolling her eyes. "Don't you usually know when you almost kiss someone?"

Regina throws her pillow against the closet door and practically yells, "Yes–no- I have no idea! I've never _almost_ kissed someone before. It's always been a full kiss or nothing."

Rolling her eyes, Rapunzel replies, "Okay," with so much disinterest Regina is almost offended. "Did you want to kiss her?"

"I don't know!"

"Do you think she wanted to kiss you?"

"How should I know that? I'm not a mind-reader!"

"Okay, fair point. What did she say, though?"

"She asked if I wanted to hang out again, with more or less nudity," Regina mutters. "She didn't say anything about kissing."

"You could ask her about it," Rapunzel suggests, and Regina turns to the other girl with a furious glare.

"I cannot _ask_ her about it, Rapunzel!" she shouts. "That would just...no!"

Rapunzel sniffs. "Fine, dig yourself out of your own mess, then."

Regina stares at her phone for another minute before letting out a growl of frustration and typing, "Any nudity level is fine. Whatever works for you."

Then she throws herself out of bed, grabs a towel, and marches down the hall to take a cold shower.

(8:15 AM)  
><strong>duckduckswan<strong>: nice. i'll think of something good.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, Regalers!" Marian exclaims, looking far too peppy for the early hour. She's been in a shockingly good mood lately: their song for their first competition (a version of Nicki Minaj's "Bed of Lies" with a few alterations to avoid problems like racial slurs and the wrath of President Blanchard) is apparently coming together much better than expected, and Regina heard Tink whisper something about "that incompetent guy" getting fired from the soup kitchen. "Mulan and Ruby have kindly agreed to lead us in the first of our weekly Cardio Days!"<p>

"Excuse me - _what?"_ Lacey hollers, jerking out of her half-asleep state at the first mention of exercise. "Ruby, how could you betray me like that?"

Ruby blushes. "Sorry," she whispers, "I like to run."

"Lung capacity and core support are very important for singing," Marian declares, "and some of you could stand to improve."

Belle groans.

"Can we workout in the pool?" Ariel asks excitedly.

Ruby shuffles to the front of the room, looking vaguely apologetic. Beside her, Mulan looks about as excited as Regina has ever seen her. "So, we're going to start with a mile run," Ruby announces, "and then Mulan is going to teach us some of her favorite core exercises."

"Just so you guys know, my dad was the Chinese national record holder for the snatch in his weight-class, before he dropped the barbell on his foot," she says so matter-of-factly it could hardly be considered a brag. "So my credentials are pretty sound."

"No one's questioning your credentials; it's more like your sanity," mutters Lacey.

"You guys ready to go?" Ruby asks brightly, pointedly ignoring her grumbling girlfriend.

Regina finds herself in the middle of the pack, flanked by Belle, Ariel, and Marian. Ruby's already disappeared off into the distance with Mulan and Tamara, setting a punishing pace, and Tink is bringing up the rear to ensure that Lacey doesn't drop out. She tries to stay focused – running isn't really her thing, but she doesn't want to fall behind and be forced to hear Tink's cajoling – but her had snaps up when she hears a wolf-whistle.

"Looking good, Mills!" Emma calls from the quad, where she and Mary Margaret are doing homework together, spread out on a picnic blanket. Regina groans. _Of course_ they'd run past Emma. Isn't that how her life always works out?

"Objectification isn't cute!" Marian hollers as they run past, and then she turns to Regina with an angry glare like this is all her fault.

"I don't think she was –" Regina tries to say, but Marian cuts her off.

"Save it, Mills. Your toner could not be more obvious. You may think she has good intentions, but the rule against Sirens is there for a reason."

With that, Marian picks up the pace, and Regina, annoyed, strains to catch up.

"Look, whatever my sister did to you –"

"This is not about anything your sister _did_ to me," Marian says angrily. "I am an agent, not an object to be acted upon. _I_ made the mistake of placing my trust in someone who didn't deserve it, and that's a mistake I won't repeat. I make my own destiny."

"Whatever," Regina mutters as Marian speeds away, and then another thought occurs to her. "Wait! If you make your own destiny, then why can't the rest of us do it, too."

With a loud huff, Marian pauses just long enough for Regina to catch her. "Excuse me?" she demands.

"If you're so intent on claiming your mistakes, then why can't the rest of us learn from experience, too? Why do you get to make all of the rules?"

"Because it's a different situation when your so-called _experience_ can affect your teammates!" Marian yells – well, as close to yelling as anyone can get when they're short of breath. "The stakes are higher when other people depend on you! The Sirens don't respect us, and I will not allow _our_ a cappella group to be the subject of their mockery again after some idiot frosh decides to learn from _experience_."

"But how do you know every single Siren is like Zelena? You don't, right? So, maybe –"

"So, are you saying you want to make a mistake? With her?" Regina sighs and wonders how she got herself into this conversation. They've left Belle and Ariel far behind at this point.

"I don't know!" she answers, scowling. "I'm saying I'd like to be free to make my own choices!"

All of her life has been a series of rules and regulations and someone else's decisions: "it's the best choice for your future, Regina." Just once, she'd like to be able to decide for herself. Whether that means hooking up with Emma – well, she has no idea what she wants, but it's not as if anyone else does, either.

"Then do what you want," Marian says with a noncommittal shrug as they come to a stop in front of the rest of the group. "Make your mistake; date a Siren. But don't be selfish about it, and don't come to me when it all blows up in your face."

"Wait, what?"

"You're right. You're free to make your own destiny, but that means you're the only one who gets to live with the consequences of it."

She walks away before Regina has time to process it.

"Okay guys," Mulan yells once everyone except Lacey and Tink has assembled, "we'll do five minutes of stretching and then start our core circuit. Let's get down to business to defeat the Sirens."

Ruby smirks. "Was that...did you just..."

"Mulan, are you embracing it?" Tamara exclaims.

Mulan sighs and rolls her eyes. "Yes, I'm embracing it. This is me embracing it. Now start stretching, you spineless, pale, pathetic lot."

The rest of Cardio Day quickly devolves into a Disney sing-along with a few strategically altered lyrics, and Regina wonders what the hell Marian had meant. _Consequences? Destiny?_

How big of a deal is kissing someone, anyway?

_Mysterious as the dark side of the moon._

* * *

><p>Regina watches with bated breath from behind the curtain as the Sirens take the stage. It's their first competition of the year, and to say that tensions had been high on the shared bus to New Haven would be an understatement.<p>

"All-female groups don't tend to do very well," Marian whispers over her shoulder, causing Regina to jump about a foot in the air, "but the judges love the Sirens for some reason."

"What are our chances of advancing to Regionals?" Regina asks. Not that she really cares, but the continued opportunities to watch Emma Swan from behind seems more and more appealing the more she thinks about it.

Marian shrugs. "It really depends on the judges," she says simply. _"I_ think we've got a good shot."

Then Regina hears Glinda whisper, "One, two, three, four," before the incessant _"Turn around"_ starts in earnest.

"You weren't lying," Marian remarks, sounding surprised.

"Why would I lie?" Regina responds in a stage whisper that she hopes conveys her irritation.

"I don't know? A well-deserved hatred of this song?"

Regina rolls her eyes. "It reminds me of waiting for the shower," she mutters. "A very traumatic experience." She has to give credit where credit is due, though: Zelena is truly a master of selecting the perfect songs for her vocal range and excess of dramatic flair.

And seeing the other Sirens as her backup dancers, relegated to only singing "Turn around," is hilarious. At one point, Regina catches Emma's eye and makes a hugely exaggerated show of turning in a three-sixty, and Emma winks, causing Regina's face to flush.

_(Turn around)  
><em>_Every now and then  
><em>_I know you'll never be the girl  
><em>_You always wanted to be  
><em>_(Turn around)  
><em>_But every now and then  
><em>_I know you'll always be the only girl  
><em>_Who wanted me the way that I am  
><em>_(Turn around)_

"She's always changing the lyrics to make them as gay as possible," mutters Marian. _Why is she still here?_ Regina wonders. _"Sooo_ edgy. The judges are just going to eat it up."

"Maybe because she's gay?" Regina suggests. "Can you really imagine Zelena singing about a boy?"

Marian shakes her head. "We're on next," she says shortly. "Places in thirty seconds."

Regina sighs as she follows Marian down the wings, wondering if there's something she's missing as the volume of Zelena's voice picks up for the big finish.

_Together we can take it to the end of the line  
><em>_Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time  
><em>_(All of the time)  
><em>_I don't know what to do  
><em>_I'm always in the dark  
><em>_Living in a powder keg and giving off sparks  
><em>_I really need you tonight  
><em>_Forever's gonna start tonight  
><em>_(Forever's gonna start tonight)_

"Like Zelena even knows what forever means," Marian grumbles.

* * *

><p>Emma follows the rest of the Sirens down the aisle, searching for open seats to watch the rest of the show. "Emma! Over here!" Mary Margaret calls, waving from one of the middle rows. "This is my mother," she explains excitedly, gesturing to the woman on her other side. "Mom, this is my roommate, Emma."<p>

"Nice to meet you, President Blanchard," Emma says nervously. Why do all of her friends seem to have these well-connected, intimidating mothers? Eva Blanchard seems friendly enough, but there's a strange, kind of plastic quality about her that sets Emma on edge.

"Emma!" she hears a voice whisper from behind her, and she turns to face a very bored-looking Henry Mills, whose mother keeps elbowing him to sit up straight.

"Hey, kid, did you like the song?" she asks brightly. Henry grimaces.

"I've heard Zelena sing it enough times," he grumbles, and then when Cora glares at him, he reluctantly adds, "You were pretty good, though."

"Thanks, I guess," she laughs, giving a half-hearted wave to Zelena as the senior plops down in an empty seat behind her family, dragging Glinda along by the elbow.

"You were wonderful, darling," Cora gushes. "I can't believe I get to hear both of my daughters sing today." Eva Blanchard turns and gives her a dirty look.

_Do you ever think of me when you lie,  
><em>_Lie down in your bed, your bed of lies?_

The Regalers take the stage to moderate applause, and their song starts off a bit slow. The audience doesn't seem quite as eager as they did when the Sirens are on stage, and Emma almost feels a little sorry for them. It's not that they aren't any good – on average, they might be actually be better singers – but there's no one with the Zelena's presence that can really make everything pop.

But then Mulan starts rapping, and the crowd goes wild.

_You could never make eye contact  
><em>_Everything you got was based off of my contacts  
><em>_You a fraud, but I'mma remain icon-stat  
><em>_Balenciaga's on my boots with the python strap..._

Emma hears Eva Blanchard _tsk_-ing on Mary Margaret's other side, but the rest of the auditorium is eating it up. They've edited the lyrics just enough to avoid any real backlash from the College President, and the Dean of Students actually seems to be enjoying it.

"Wow," Zelena mutters. Emma briefly turns her head and is surprised to see the older girl actually paying attention instead of making out with Glinda. "This isn't terrible."

"I _told_ you," Henry says triumphantly. "Now shut up and give me five bucks."

Zelena shuts up – that is, until Marian's solo starts and there's a loud rustle as Zelena gets up and stalks out of the room.

_So does she know I've been in that bed before  
><em>_A thousand count, and not a single thread of truth  
><em>_If I was just another girl  
><em>_Then I'm ashamed to say that I'm not over you  
><em>_There's one thing I need to know  
><em>_So call me, when you're not so busy just thinking of yourself._

Regina's actually smiling when they finish, and the sight of it almost knocks the wind out of Emma's chest. She cheers wildly along with Cora, Henry, and Mary Margaret, while President Blanchard seethes in her seat.

When the scores are announced, Emma's not at all surprised to hear that the Sirens took first place, and the Regalers snuck into an unexpected fourth. She briefly lets herself imagine a couple more long bus rides seated beside Regina, maybe some kissing in the back seat...

Maybe this a cappella thing could be fun, if they weren't supposed to be sworn enemies.

* * *

><p>"Zelena," Marian says coolly as she passes the redhead on her way out of the auditorium. "First place as usual. I assume you must be pleased."<p>

"Hello, Marian," Zelena replies with a wide, fake smile. (Her mother must be nearby, Marian thinks.) "Interesting song choice today."

Marian rolls her eyes. "You mean because it was hip-hop?" she asks defensively. "What, you've never heard Nicki Minaj before? I guess she doesn't fit into your narrow definition of –"

"Oh my god, get the three-foot icicle out of your ass, Marian," Zelena exclaims, all pretense of friendliness instantly gone. "Of course I've heard of Nicki Minaj, you idiot. I meant _interesting_ because it was actually good."

"If you think you're going to win me over with some backhanded compliment, then –"

Zelena interrupts her with a high-pitched laugh. "Who said anything about winning you over? I'm happily monogamous for a change. I just came over to congratulate you on not sucking for once."

"Yeah? Well, thanks," Marian mutters. There's something that just feels _off_ about this conversation, and she's not quite sure what it is. "I have to give credit where credit is due, though," she says stiffly, "your sister was instrumental in helping it all come together."

Not that Regina was; she's a good singer, of course, and a solid team member despite her unfortunate obsession with Emma Swan, but she has none of the leadership qualities that Zelena's practically bursting with – then again, Regina's also nowhere near the diva that Zelena is, so perhaps one has to take the good with the bad. Anyway, she'd only said it to piss Zelena off, but for whatever reason, that doesn't seem to be happening.

There's a pause as Zelena regards Marian curiously, an unexpected smile twitching at the corners of her lips. "Instrumental? Was that an a cappella joke?"

Marian smirks. "Not really, but let's just say it was if it makes me sound clever."

"It does. Very clever," Zelena agrees. "Glad to hear Reggie's doing well. I was a little worried about her, honestly. She was sort of in a bad place for a while." She stops, furrows her brow, and then says, "Forget I ever said that."

"Sisterly concern?" Marian jokes. "Not the Zelena Mills I know."

"Believe it or not, I've matured in the last four years, Marian. I know it's hard to believe, but I'm capable of caring about people now. Even my sister."

"Well, you _have_ been in a relationship for longer than two minutes, so maybe I'll think about believing you."

"You know what, Mar?" Zelena demands, rolling her eyes. "I messed up; I get it. Why don't you just scream at me and finally get over it? This whole 'Ice Queen' thing doesn't work for you."

Marian glares, willing her eyes to bore a hole right through the center of Zelena's forehead. As if Zelena has any right at all to tell her how to feel; it's not even so much about the cheating but the betrayal of their friendship, and Zelena doesn't get that. Zelena isn't capable of getting it – she doesn't feel enough to get it. "It's better than getting burned. Again," she says. Then she storms away.


End file.
